Being Apart Of Something Special
by JayCodyLegit
Summary: Glee AU with OCs, Blainchel, Klaine, Brittana .. SUMMARY INSIDE!
1. Prologue

So, this is my AU in which Rachel was bullied, so Blaine transferred on over to McKinley to comfort his girlfriend (all happened before the beginning of the fic). And Kurt moves from the bright lights of NYC to to dim fluorescence of McKinley. There will be OC's, and focus on other characters as well. Enjoy :)

* * *

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Prologue_

* * *

"So, Blaine tell me, how does it feel to be out of that uniform and in some regular clothes for a change?" Rachel questioned her dreamy-eyed boyfriend one morning at their usual table in the noisy cafeteria at McKinley High.

"Honestly, Rach, I feel so much more free." A huge smile shot across his already adorable face, "I feel independent. Like... Like I can just burst out into song and dance with no restrictions!"

"Yeah, we tend to do that, us _New Directioners_." She giggled, throwing a sliced carrot onto Blaine's tray. He laughed, and threw one back in return. They both giggled, staring into each other's eyes for the moment, thinking how lucky they were to have found one another.

With all of the bullying from the unholy trinity a few months prior to Blaine's transfer, Rachel thought she'd never be happy again. Then one night, she met Blaine at an open mic night at Breadstix when he took the stage with his rendition of Katy Perry's 'Teenage Dream'. To keep this story short, the two fell in love, and Blaine decided that he wanted to transfer to McKinley so that he could be as close to the person he loved as possible.

It's now mid-March, and the New Directions were preparing for Regionals. Ever since Blaine strutted the halls of McKinley, Rachel had been too distracted to fight over solos with the other girls, so that allowed Tina and Mercedes to get their fair share.

It seemed as if everything was sunshine and rainbows in this small town in Ohio, right?

_Wrong._


	2. New Kid In Town

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_New Kid In Town_

* * *

"I still can't believe this, dad." Kurt stared out of his dad's car's foggy window at the gloomy sight of McKinley High School. "You moved me all the way out here, away from my friends, my Broadway, my _City_! This is truly the cliché of a horrible, horrible movie."

"Kurt, calm your horses." Burt Hummel placed a reassuring hand onto his son's shoulder. "Do you want me to come inside with you? I know that can help solidify this situation."

"Dad, I can handle myself. Besides, breathing in this strange air solidifies the situation enough for me." Kurt unbuckled his seat belt, and opened the car door in the same swift movement. With a sigh, he walked up to the front door of McKinley. This school was at least half the size of the performing arts school he attended back in New York. He knew that he'd have a hard time adjusting.

Behind the front doors awaited hell. How could a city boy survive in a dead-end hick town like this? As he took his first few steps into what he had already deemed 'hell on Earth', he caught sight of none other than dreamboat Blaine Anderson—who I might add, was unusually chipper this morning.

"Excuse me, I'm new here," _Smooth, Hummel._ Kurt approached the shorter boy, "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me where Mrs. Fitch's Geography class is?" _Pretty fucking smooth._

"Oh, uh, hi?" Blaine seemed startled at the sight of the more fashionable teen.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to uhm... scare you—I guess."

"Oh, no, you didn't scare me," Blaine began to blush with nerves, "I was just hanging up posters, advertising this school's glee club. Regionals are soon, and we could always use some fresh talent."

"Did you say glee club?" Kurt's face lit up at the familiar phrase. "As in, singing?"

"Yeah!" Blaine was suddenly more chipper as well, "Do you sing?"

_Does he not know who the hell I am? Of course, I, Kurt Hummel, am a singer. Pfft._ "Nothing special, just coffee shops and open mic nights. Nothing too big." _Smooth._

"Well in that case, follow me. I'll show you where Mrs. Fitch's class is, _and_ I'll show you where the choir room is—the home of the New Directions."

"New Directions?" Kurt questioned as the two began to walk down the judging halls.

"Yeah, it's the name of our club. Groovy, huh?"

"Yeah—I guess."

Kurt took in every ounce of this boy as possible. Everything from his gelled hair, to the bowtie, to the preppy look was doing it for Kurt. _He has to be gay_, he thought to himself. But only time could tell. Of course, there were the usual glances from other students at the unfamiliar setting aimed Kurt's way. He knew they all had the question of whether or not he was gay, as he hadn't really noticed much 'gay' activity in the town within the past week of getting the lay of the land.

"Welp, here we are, the choir room." Blaine smiled in awe at the thought of possibly recruiting a new member. "You should totally audition, I'm sure you'll be great."

_Bitch, I AM great. _"Yeah, of course. I just-"

"BLAINE!"

Kurt's head whipped to the short, big-nosed brunette that had stormed into the choir room so quickly, his hair almost moved out of place.

"Blaine!" The girl shouted again, "Word on the street is there is a new student here at McKinley. And that word also says that he's fresh from New York City, and he's a singer,"

_Damn, stalker much?_ Kurt glared at the girl.

"-And if he is almost as good as me, then he'd be a great addition to glee!"

"Whoa," Blaine placed his hands on her shoulders, "Calm down!"

"Never tell me to calm down!" She stared into Blaine's eyes with a fierce attitude he had only seen whenever she went into her lecture-mode about becoming a star and whatnot. "It would be wise to show him that we're cool, and we're not a bunch of losers like everyone says! I think it'd be best if-" she stopped rambling. She slowly turned her head to address the towering boy that stood there, quietly watching. "Who're you?"

_Oh, so she finally notices me. _"Kurt. Kurt Hummel." He lightly grinned, "I do believe that I'm this big New York boy you were just talking about."

The girl's eyes went big with shock, like she was meeting her idol, Barbra Streisand, in person. She whipped her head at Blaine, then back to Kurt, then back to Blaine. "It's—It's him!"

"Yeah, Rachel, it's definitely him." Blaine laughed at her surprised face.

"He's—oh my _God!_"

"Relax, Rachel, he's a teenager, just like us. I don't think there's much to be fanning over."

"Yeah, I'm just a teenager," _With superstar potential_, "like Blaine said. Nothing to be going crazy over. I'm just like you—well, maybe with a tad bit more fashion sense." Kurt took in Rachel's outfit, trying his hardest not to gag. "The point is, I don't want to be treated like a prized porcelain doll. I wish to be treated like everyone else at this school. Well, at least until I _am _ famous, then I expect them all to worship me." He chuckled at the seriousness within his voice.

Both Rachel and Blaine laughed along with the uncomfortableness Kurt had just set.

"But you're not like the idiots in this town," Rachel began, "You're a New Yorker, far more special than anyone here. You can sing, and from the looks of your figure, you can dance. Hell, you're also as cute as a button. If I weren't with this one right here," She gestured to Blaine, "I'd totally date you."

_Dammit, he's straight!_ "Flattering." He tried to mask his jealous demeanor. "But I'm gay."

"Even better!" Rachel practically pounced onto the boy right then and there. "That makes you even more special and amazing! Look, Kurt, if you're as good as my extensive Facebook and Twitter research say you are, then you definitely need to be apart of the glee club."

With hesitation, Kurt glanced at Blaine, who had the same hopeful expression as his girlfriend. He glanced back at Rachel, who was on the edge of her seat for an answer. Torturing them with a few more moments of unnecessary silence, Kurt finally said, "If it means that much, I guess I'll audition."

* * *

Later that day, when is was time for the club meeting, a very nervous Kurt walked toward the choir room with Rachel by his side.

"Don't worry, Kurt, you'll do fine. I'm sure of it."

"I don't mean to sound conceited, but I know I will. I'm just scared there might be some homophobia within the club." He paused for a second, "I don't want to have to deal with drama on my first day."

"No need to worry, I have two gay dads, and aside from the cheerleaders hating me for whatever reason, everyone seems to adore me—er, tolerate, I guess."

Kurt cleared the lump in his throat, "But you're not the gay one." They were now face to face with the rest of the club within the thin walls of the choir room.

"Well, it's now or never."

Kurt's eyes immediately zeroed in on the bright colors of a _very_ diva-looking black girl in the top row of chairs. Then, while panning his gaze past the three cheerleaders Rachel had mentioned before, he caught sight of the sex doll he met earlier—Blaine.

"I'd like to introduce you all to the newest member of our club, Kurt Hummel!" Rachel announced with much enthusiasm.

"I'm sorry, Rachel, but who is he?" The curly-haired teacher questioned the appearance of this stranger.

"I'm Kurt," he answered, "Kurt Hummel." he said, holding out a hand with a smile, "Both Blaine and Rachel offered me an audition—although I still want to know how she found out about me so quickly, I've only been in town for a week."

"Kurt, come sit with me!" the vibrant black girl fro before shouted with much excitement. He didn't really have time to deny a friendship, and she looked like the most fashion-concerned person at this school, so he walked to the empty chair right next to her, marking his territory. He soon found out that her name was Mercedes, and they'd soon be great friends.

"Kurt, I don't know if Blaine or Rachel told you, but you have to audition before you're officially one of us." Mr. Schue's voice was already an annoyance.

"Oh, of course." _they're already begging me to perform. How amazing._ Kurt thought to himself, smiling at his inner narcissist. He walked down from the top row passing the token Asians, and the kid in the wheelchair to make his way to the center of the room, next to Mr. Schue. "Well," he began, "I obviously have a higher-pitched voice than most guys my age. And I like to believe that this allows me to sing female songs as much as I want—specifically songs from my all time favorite Broadway musical, _Wicked_. I always got hate from both male and female singers at my old school, because they were jealous of my range. And for a while, I hated it. But then I thought to myself, that I wasn't put on this Earth to please them. I was put here to shine like the star I am, and continue to defy gravity."

"Oh my God, he's going to sing Defying Gravity!" Rachel whispered to Blaine, just as Kurt prepared himself to sing.

"_Something has changed within me_

_Something is not the same_

_I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game_

_Too late for second-guessing_

_Too late to go back to sleep..."_

Kurt sang, letting his eyes admire the kids admiring his amazing performance.

"_...It's time to trust my instincts_

_Close my eyes, and leap!_

_It's time to try Defying Gravi-"_

There was a deafening cough from Kurt, stopping him from continuing. He held his chest, as if it would suppress the rejection, but to no avail.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Mr. Schue showed sympathy almost instantaneously, rushing to Kurt's aid.

"Yeah," He coughed again, "I guess I'm just not used to the Ohio air."

There was a rush of laughter from all of the others in the choir room. They all applauded Kurt's outstanding performance, either way.

"In any case, that was simply, _amazing._" Rachel stood up, giving him a one-woman standing ovation.

"I agree," Blaine began, "I think I can speak for all of us when I say that he's earned a spot in this club.

"Wait, I'm confused," One of the two blonde cheerleaders began, "Are you a girl... but like, a boy?" She was obviously one crayon short of a full set.

"What Brittany here is trying to say, is that you're really gay." The sassy Hispanic cheerleader cleared up her blonde friend's confusion.

Kurt was stunned by her bluntness, "Well, yeah... I thought that was kind of obvious."

"No, I mean like, really, _really,_ gay." She squinted her eyes, seeing if she'd make a hit to Kurt's confidence. Nope.

"Santana's just jealous," Mercedes came to his defense, "Don't mind her." Yep, Kurt was already thinking of which stores they'd be hitting up later as BFFs.

"Mercedes is right," The Asian girl spoke up with such a shy voice. "Santana's always trying to bash people. I'm Tina, by the way. And that's Quinn, Artie, Mike, Puck, Finn, Brittany, Sam, and Lauren. And you already know Blaine and Rachel, it seems." She helpfully pointed out each member of the New Directions with a smile.

"Thanks, Tina." Kurt smiled at everyone, including Santana, who'd he could already foretell that they'd be going at it everyday. Both of their diva personalities just couldn't fit under one roof. "Nice to meet you all."


	3. On My Own

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_On My Own_

* * *

"So guys," Mr. Schuester announced one Monday afternoon, "This week's lesson is 'goodbye.' Regionals this year is going to be themed all about it. So we might as well start practicing now." He wrote in giant letters on the whiteboard, 'GOODBYES.' "Now, how do you all say, 'goodbye?'"

"Have a good night, or afternoon." Rachel answered with a smile.

"Peace out!" Both Artie and Mercedes answered at the same time.

"You keep mistaking me for your doctor, stop calling." Tina sighed.

With a laugh, Mr. Schue spoke once more, "No, no, no; I mean goodbye as in a break-up. A lot of songs are about heartbreak, so I figured we'd give that a try."

"Mr. Schue, not to toot my own horn," Puck slyly grinned, "But the Puckasaurus doesn't get heartbroken. He _does_ the heartbreaking."

"So you're telling me that there's never been a time where you felt heartbroken?"

"No, sir."

"So not even when Quinn chose Finn over you? Or even when she chose to give up Beth without consulting you? Or how about the multiple times you tried to woo Lauren and she turned you down?"

Puck stood quiet.

"My point exactly." Mr. Schue felt a sense of pride when he got him to be quiet. "Oh, and Kurt, if you want to sit this one out just to see how things work around here, I wouldn't mind."

"Oh, no, not at all. I'm willing to participate. I even have the perfect song!"

"And if I know Kurt—in which I do—it's probably a Broadway classic featuring a deep meaning with heavy vocals and meaningful emotions." Rachel shot out from under Blaine's arm.

"Good, good. So for now we'll do some singing exercises , and we'll start this little heartbreaker's competition tomorrow."

* * *

"Kurt's really amazing, don'tcha think?" Blaine sat across from Rachel later than afternoon. They were sitting at their usual table next to the back windows in the Lima Bean, drinking their usual caramel cappuccinos, discussing song choices for Regionals. That is, until Kurt popped up into the conversation.

"Yeah, he's great, but-"

"And his voice—his voice is so smooth."

"Yeah, I guess, but-"

"His confidence is amazing as well. He's so inspiring."

"Yes, Blaine, inspir-"

"Not to mention his fashion sen-"

"BLAINE!" Rachel snapped at her prep school boy toy. "Stop! Ever since Kurt transferred here last week, it's been all about him. _Kurt this, Kurt that! Kurt can sing female songs. Kurt wears Marc Jacobs and Prada. Kurt's from New York. _I'm sick of it!"

"Rachel, you're overreacting..."

"Overreacting? Oh my dear Blaine, I am _not_ overreacting." She stood up in a hormonal fury, pointing her finger, scolding him, "Maybe it's because I'm on my period, or maybe because I lost my copy of Funny Girl on DVD, but my emotions are on a crazy high right now, and you're pissing me off with all of this Kurt speak." With that, she was gone just as fast as she became angry.

Blaine just sat there with a confused look. He didn't mean to upset her, nor did he mean to bring up Kurt so much in their conversations. Never did he think his girlfriend would be jealous of a boy.

"What's her problem?" a familiar voice chimed in from behind Blaine.

He slowly turned, "Kurt?"

"The one and only." He took it upon himself to sit across from Blaine, where Rachel's territory had previously been marked. "So what happened with her? Did she find your secret porn stash?"

"Secret porn?" Blaine blushed, because he actually _did_ have a secret stash of videos. "No, that's crazy," _Smooth, Anderson. Very smooth. _"She was just... moody I guess. You know girls."

"No, not really. I'm on the opposing team, remember?" He replied in a serious manner.

"Right!" Blaine became defensive, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend-"

"Relax, Blaine!" Kurt chuckled, "I'm joking! Gays tend to do that sometimes. It's not always a political deal with us you know."

"Right, politics..." Blaine's voice trailed off before he caught himself, "Anyway, Rachel was just upset because I didn't agree with her song choice for Mr. Schue's whole heartbreak thing." _Liar._

"Oh, well what was she going to sing?"

"Uh," _why is he being so curious? _"She said something about Les Mis, I think. I can't remember the song name at the moment."

"Interesting..."

"Are you familiar with the musical?"

"Not really, but I do love me a good sob story."

"I'm sorry?"

"Les Mis," Kurt began, "Isn't it short for 'Les Miserables'? And if I'm not mistaken, that means miserable in French."

"Oh, right, of course. I wouldn't know, I'm taking Spanish." Blaine was acting uncharacteristically oblivious and mundane.

"Right... well, it was nice talking to you, Blaine. I should get going; curfew and all." Kurt dismissed himself before it got even more awkward.

"Yeah, of course. Have a goodnight, Kurt."

"You too, Blaine."

* * *

Later that same evening, Rachel had called over Mercedes and Tina for a girls' night sleepover. They had been watching a bunch of romantic movies, sobbing about how much they wish they had that kind of love, and that their pints of ice cream were almost gone. It was almost too soon that Kurt's name somehow got into the conversation, and Rachel, once again, wasn't having it.

"Oh God, not you guys too!"

"What?" Tina asked as if it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world.

"Kurt? You guys can't get Kurt out of your mouths."

"Well sorry little miss Streisand, but he's the most interesting person besides myself that I've met in a while." Mercedes spoke in her natural diva tone.

"I just—I've had enough of hearing his name come from Blaine's mouth, and now I have to hear it from you guys as well."

"Wait, Blaine's been talking about Kurt nonstop?" Tina was suddenly more intrigued.

"I knew it!" Mercedes practically threw herself in the air in excitement.

Rachel, confused, asked, "What? What it is?"

"I knew it all along, Rachel, you've got yourself a closet-case as a boyfriend."

"Closet-case? Mercedes, what are you talking about?"

"As if I couldn't be more obvious. Blaine—your man—is on the down low."

"No... he can't be."

"It seems likely," Tina chimed in, "All the magazines state these signs."

"Signs? What signs?"

"The signs that your boyfriend's best friend might be a little more than that."

"Okay, Tina, if these magazines are so wise, what do they say?"

"Well, first," Tina began, "If he's talked about him excessively, that's one sign. Another is if there's an awkward tension whenever they're together. Also, if Kurt tends to stare at Blaine, even in your presence, that's a big giveaway."

"I—I don't buy it. Blaine's not gay. He's just more feminine than most is all." Rachel deflected.

"I say you should call him." Mercedes smiled like it was the best idea ever, and it might have been just that at this point.

"What? No—why?"

"To see if he's hiding anything!"

"It's a good idea, Rachel. Believe us." Tina smiled with the same eagerness as Mercedes.

"How odd will that be? What am I going to say, _Hey Blaine, I was just wondering if you were gay and cheating on me with Kurt. Oh okay then. Have a goodnight? _That's insane!"

"Insane? Or absolutely genius?" Tina questioned.

Rachel hesitated. She was scared of his reaction, mostly because she thought he'd be offended by the question, and also because she didn't want to face the reality of he said yes. She bit her lip before replying, "Fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine, I'll call him."

Both of her friends nearly jumped with joy. Mercedes grabbed her phone, and dialed Blaine's number. As soon as it began to ring, she tossed the phone to Rachel, who slowly put it to her ear.

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing._

"Hello?" Blaine's groggy voice answered on the other end.

"ohmygodwhatdoidonow?" Rachel panicked, tossing the phone at Tina.

"Hello, Rachel?" Blaine asked once more.

"Talk to him!" Tina shoved the phone in Rachel's face. She took it, scared as ever, and addressed her boyfriend properly.

"Hi, Blaine." _Smooth, Berry. Keep it going._ "I'm sorry to call so late, I—this just couldn't really wait."

"It's no problem, I had to get up to turn off my TV anyway. What's going on?" Blaine's voice cleared up a little, and he sounded a lot less tired than he did when he first answered.

"Well, uhm... I actually wanted to apologize for—ow!" She was interrupted by a nudge to the shoulder from Mercedes.

"Rachel?"

"Sorry, Blaine, I guess I should just get to the point."

"Ya think?" Tina whispered.

"I—I was just wondering," _Come on, out with it, Berry!_ "Are you... are you gay?"

"What?" he moved his phone away from his mouth to laugh. Loudly. "Rachel, that's ridiculous, I'm not gay! Do I need to come over and show you just how straight I am?"

* * *

"Alright," Mr. Schue's voice boomed in the choir room the following Tuesday afternoon, "First in this little competition is our newest addition, Kurt Hummel!" There was a light opening applause for the boy.

Kurt stood in his place, as opposed to taking center stage, "Mr. Schue, if I may, I'd like to go second—or third even. I don't really feel comfortable going first yet."

"Oh, uhm, of course." The curly haired teacher looked down at his clipboard, which held the sign up sheet. "Brittany, would you like to go?"

"Go where?" The ditzy girl replied.

"Go first? To sing?"

"Oh, yeah, duh!" She got up from her seat beside Santana with a pep in her step.

"The floor's all yours."

Brittany whispered something into the leader of the band's ear. He nodded with a smile, and started playing. The other instruments soon followed his lead. She untied her ponytail, and made her hair messier. Once she felt comfortable with the beat, she began to sing.

"_Maybe I need some rehab_

_or maybe just need some sleep_

_I've got a sick obsession_

_I'm seeing it in my dreams_

_I'm looking down every alley_

_I'm making this desperate call_

_I'm staying up all night hoping_

_Hitting my head against the wall!"_

"Brittany!"

"_What you've got boy,_

_Is hard to find_

_I think about it_

_All the time-"_

"Brittany!" Mr. Schue interrupted once more.

"Yes?" She stopped with the singing, just as the band had stopped playing.

"That song isn't about heartbreak..."

"Sure it is. It's about love being like a drug, and drugs are bad, and when love is bad people break up, right?"

There was a laughter from a few members of the club.

"Not quite, Brittany." Mr. Schue sighed, "Have a seat."

Brittany walked back to Santana with a look of defeat and sadness. She thought she had done good, but apparently it just wasn't right.

"Kurt? Would you like to perform now?" Mr. Schue quickly changed the topic.

"Oh, of course." He replied with a smile. As he got up, he announced to the waiting band, "Don't worry, I won't need any accompaniment for this. I'll sing completely a capella." He closed his eyes, took a breathe, and when he opened them, they immediately zeroed in on Blaine. There was a lusting for this boy he had just met a week ago that was stronger than any of his feelings for any other boy. He quickly glanced at Rachel, who was staring at him with a _keep your damn hands off my man_ glare. At this point, he knew it was time to start singing.

"_And now I'm all alone again nowhere to turn, no one to go to  
without a home without a friend without a face to say hello to  
And now the night is near  
Now I can make believe he's here  
Sometimes I walk alone at night  
When everybody else is sleeping  
I think of him and then I'm happy  
With the company I'm keeping  
The city goes to bed  
And I can live inside my head..."_

Kurt let his eyes wander the room as he sang. He could see most of the glee clubbers connecting with him.

"_On my own_

_Pretending he's beside me_

_All alone_

_I walk with him till morning_

_Without him_

_I feel his arms around me_

_And when I lose my way, I close my eyes_

_And he has found me_

_In the rain, the pavement shines like silver_

_All the lights are misty in the river_

_In the darkness the trees are filled of starlight_

_And all I see is him and me_

_Forever and forever..."_

Now, it was almost completely blatant that he was singing about Blaine, which made Rachel very uncomfortable. By the looks of it, Blaine was enjoying the song, and that pissed her off even more. Noticing that Kurt's eyes was found their way back to her man, Rachel got all lovey dovey with him, by cuddling closer, and resting her head on his shoulder.

"_...And I know it's only in my mind  
That I'm talking to myself and not to him  
And although I know that he is blind  
Still I say, there's a way for us  
I love him  
But when the night is over  
He is gone  
The river's just a river  
Without him  
The world around me changes  
The trees are bare and everywhere  
The streets are full of strangers  
I love him  
But every day I'm learning  
All my life  
I've only been pretending  
Without me  
His world would go on turning  
A world that's full of happiness  
That I have never known  
I love him  
I love him  
I love him  
But only on my own."_


	4. A Place For my Head

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_A Place For My Head (Regionals)_

* * *

"Since Mr. Schue is late—_again—_I've taken it upon myself to put this pre-Regionals meeting together. Now, I want you all to brainstorm and discuss which songs you'd like to hear _Blaine and I_ perform."

"Rachel, that's kind of mean to say." Blaine spoke as he attempted to bring his girlfriend into the light of her ignorance.

"Yeah, Blaine, you're right." Santana began with her infamous _bitch shut the hell up_ tone. Now talking to Rachel, "Pinocchio, personally, I don't think you should get to sing at all at Regionals. Ever since your little hobbit of a boyfriend transferred here, we've finally got some peace and quiet from hearing your mouth snatching away ever single solo that Aretha, Jackie Chan, and myself fight for. So, hows about you do me a favor and keep that beak shut?"

Rachel looked at Blaine for comfort, but she was hurt to see that he had the expression of agreeing with Santana on his face. With defeat, Rachel erased the giant lettering 'ME' on the whiteboard, and took a seat as far away from Blaine as possible—in which he immediately responded.

"Rachel, I'm simply saying we should just let someone else sing. It's not always going to be about Rachel Berry and Blaine Anderson when we make it to Broadway. There will be other stars, believe it or not."

"But Blaine," Rachel began once again, shouting across the room with desperation in her voice, "Santana and her devilish trio had the Halloween banquet, Tina, Mike, and Artie had Sectionals, and Mercedes covered both the Christmas ball, and the New Years concert we threw. I'm sick of sitting in the cut, only singing at stupid nursing home shows!"

It was then that Mercedes entered the conversation, "Rachel, calm yourself, please. All the times that I performed, there was barely any audience besides old janitors wandering around with brooms and trash cans. So it's not like I ever got to really perform in front of an audience."

"That may be, Mercedes, but I'm simply suggesting that my voice is better suited for Regionals. No offense, but you do this thing where it sounds like you're screaming rather than singing, and I don't think the judges at Regionals will like to see that."

"And you wonder why people hate you." Mercedes snapped back with attitude. That attitude was enough for her to storm out of the choir room without looking back.

"Look, guys, we don't need Mercedes." As much as it pained Rachel to say what she was thinking, she said it anyway. "We've got Kurt—so it's not like we're down a member."

"Wow, Woodpecker, nice one." Santana's insult sent daggers through Rachel. She, and the rest of the Cheerios left the choir room with the same attitude Mercedes had. Soon after, the football players left, then Tina and Mike, Kurt followed closely behind wheeling Artie, and Lauren as well. It was just Rachel standing alone in the now deserted choir room. She didn't even want to leave, she just felt betrayed. _Defeated._

* * *

The next day, auditions for the duet at Regionals were held. Mr. Schue decided that instead of doing a solo, a duet, and a group number, they'd just forget about the solo being that there was so much angst within the group directed toward that coveted position. Rachel and Blaine auditioned with their rendition of _Tonight_ from _West Side Story._ After those two, were Mercedes and Santana. Santana wasn't her first choice for a partner, but Kurt turned her down, because he didn't want Rachel to hate him yet, being as he thought they had become somewhat friends.

"Amazing job you guys!" Mr. Schue applauded Blaine and Rachel as they sat down after their performance. He seemed a bit too overjoyed, but hey, that was just how he acted sometimes. "And next we have, Mercedes Jones, and—Santana Lopez?" He stared at his clipboard in a daze. He had always thought the two girls disliked each other. So to see their names together sent a whole lot of confusion through his brain.

"That's riiiiight." Santana smirked as she and Mercedes got up from their seats, and headed down to 'take the stage'.

"With much thinking, we decided it would be best to dedicate this song to Rachel, who inspired us for this choice." Mercedes' grin had an mischievous undertone behind it.

"Hit it!" Santana called out to the band. They began playing in that instant, and the two performers readied themselves. Rachel smiled in her seat, flattered that they'd choose to dedicate a song to her.

Mercedes started out,

"_Can't make my own decisions  
Or make any with precision  
Well maybe you should tie me up  
So I don't go where you don't want me  
You say that I been changing  
that I'm not just simply aging  
Yeah how could that be logical?  
Just keep on cramming ideas down my throat.."_

She shot a glare at Rachel, which made her smile slowly fade as she realized the content of the song. Santana then picked up with the chorus,

"_You don't have to believe me  
But the way I, way I see it  
Next time you point a finger  
I might have to bend it back  
Or break it, break it off  
Next time you point a finger  
I'll point you to the mirror.."_

Rachel, as well as everyone else in the choir room, was completely sure that this song wasn't about praising her as they previously thought. Both Santana and Mercedes seemed to have a sheer sense of animosity toward Rachel growing with each word of the song.

"_If God's the game you're playing  
Well we must get more acquainted  
Because it has to be so lonely  
To be the only one who's holy  
It's just my humble opinion  
But it's one that I believe in  
You don't deserve a point of view  
If the only thing you see is you  
You don't have to believe me  
But the way I, way I see it  
Next time you point a finger  
I might have to bend it back  
Or break it, break it off  
Next time you point a finger  
I'll point you to the mirror.."_

For the final part of the song, Mercedes took a few steps closer to Rachel, making direct eye contact, with Santana close singing the backing vocals.

"_This is the last second chance  
(I'll point you to the mirror)  
I'm half as good as it gets  
(I'll point you to the mirror)  
I'm on both sides of the fence  
(I'll point you to the mirror)  
Without a hint of regret  
I'll hold you to it"_

* * *

"Performing next in the the Midwest Ohio State Regional Show Choir Competition are The New Directions!" The announcer on the intercom spoke fast like his life was on the line. Each member of the New Directions took the stage with their back facing the audience. It was almost shocking that barely any of them had noticed that Mercedes was gone for the rest of the week after her audition with Santana. None noticed. Except for Kurt.

"Where's Mercedes?" He whispered to Santana, who was positioned right next to him on the dark stage.

"Beats me." She replied.

Short after, the lights shot on and it was showtime.

* * *

"Now, won't you give it up for Carmel High's own, Vocal Adrenaliiiiiine!"

Vocal Adrenaline's silhouetted members took the stage. They were dressed in all black, and one member in particular stood out to Kurt. He sat uncomfortable in the audience anxiously awaiting their performance. There was something about this person that made him feel like he knew exactly who it was. Thinking for a moment, he looked around his area at all of his fellow glee clubbers—still no sign of Mercedes.

"Mercedes...?"

"_There's a fire starting in my heart_

_Reaching a fever pitch_

_And it's bringing me out of the dark_

_Finally I can see you crystal clear_

_Go ahead and sell me out_

_And I'll lay your shit bare_

_See how I'll leave with every piece of you_

_Don't underestimate the things that I will do_

_There's a fire starting in my heart_

_Reaching a fever pitch_

_And it's bringing me out of the dark..."_

Did Mercedes really betray the New Directions like that? Did she really up and leave them to join the opposing team? Did she really have that much hidden frustration that Kurt never knew about in order to leave without looking back? With her impressive performance on that stage with their rivals, it sure as hell seemed that way.

Kurt looked over to Rachel, who looked back at him, gawk-eyed. She wasn't even upset that Mercedes left them. She was more angry at herself for not seeing Mercedes' side of things when she would demand solos.

"_..Baby I have no story to be told_

_But I hear one on you_

_And it's gonna make your head burn_

_Think of me in the depths of your despair_

_Making a home down there_

_As mine sure won't be shared.."_

The other, much lesser members, of Vocal Adrenaline danced around Mercedes as she sang her heart out in hopes that the New Directions would feel the pain of losing her.

Once the song was over, and each group was backstage awaiting the results, Kurt made it his business to go over to Mercedes to see what was up and why she left.

"Kurt," she exclaimed, "I just want to be a star. And if that means taking another side just to show her, then so be it."

"Her? Her who?"

"Rachel, obviously." Mercedes pulled Kurt a few steps away from her group, and continued to explain, "She wants everything to be about her, and I'm sick of it. Time and time again, she's taken my rightful place as the leader of that club. But not anymore. I once told Mr. Schue that I am Beyonce, not Kelly Rowland. Now, I'm just bringing that to life."

"Mercedes, you can't leave us!" Kurt pleaded, "Look, I don't know the deal between us and Vocal Adrenaline, but to my understanding, some stuff went down in the past that made them our sworn enemy. You can't side with them, Mercedes, you just can't!"

There was a tear fighting it's way out of her eye. She couldn't bear to see the hurt in her newest friend's eyes. She looked down at her feet, and softly said, "I'm sorry, Kurt. It's over."


	5. We Are Family

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_We Are Family_

* * *

"Kurt!" Burt Hummel called into his dark home. It was a Monday evening, and things had been starting to feel normal again. After Mercedes' little surprise at Regionals, the New Directions were off beat. There was a puzzle piece that had broken off, and they just couldn't find another that fit. It just wasn't right. That was a month ago. "Kurt, come downstairs!"

In his room, Kurt was getting his outfit for the next day all together, just as he did every night as a pre-night-ritual ritual. He heard the urgency in his dad's voice, and rushed downstairs, dropping the two bow ties he couldn't seem to decide upon wearing in the process.

"Yeah, dad?" He asked.

"Don't make any plans Thursday night." Burt replied, taking off his jacket whilst walking into the kitchen. He swiftly opened the refrigerator, and grabbed a beer. Cracking it open with the bottle opener on his key chain, he spoke once more, "We're having a family dinner."

A puzzled look shot across Kurt's face. He moved some of the hair dangling down over his eyes away from his face, squinting at his father as if to focus on him, trying to to decipher what exactly _family_ meant. "Family? As in you and I, correct?"

"Not exactly, bud." Burt sighed. He was afraid of the confusion that Kurt would bear, and didn't exactly know how to react. "I met someone."

"Someone." He replied in a disapproving manner.

"Come on, don't give me that."

"I'm... I'm happy for you." _liar_.

"You're a horrible liar, Kurt." he took a step closer to his son, searching behind his judging eyes to find an understanding version of Kurt, "And at least give her a chance before you go and object during our vows."

"Vows?" Kurt quickly became filled with anger, but not the 'I'm going to kill you' kind. It was more of the 'Oh my God, they can't end this movie like this' kind of anger. "You're getting married? What the hell, dad. You could've at least told me that's the real reason why we moved here instead of lying to me saying that you were opening up a new tire shop out here. This is garbage! I can't believe that you would-"

"Kurt!" Burt shook his son, interrupting his rambling. "We're not getting married! Not yet, at least. Geez, we haven't even had dinner yet, and you're going crazy."

"..."

"Kurt?"

"So what's her name?" Kurt became sane once more, and a bit of morality was hidden in his tone. He took a deep breath before asking, "Do I know her?" After it escaped his lips, he figured it was a dumb question. He'd been in Ohio for almost two months, and all he knew were the kids in his glee club—well, the girls anyway.

"Carole. Carole Hudson." Burt smiled at the name, "She says she has a son in your school, maybe you know him?"

"I can't say that I do."

The middle of May brought many things. First, warm weather. Kurt loved spring time in New York. As much as he loved to be inside his favorite stores spending all of his money, he liked taking long walks through Central Park on a sunny day just as much. Second, it brought drama. Since they were down a member, competing at Nationals seemed nearly impossible. They were still the 'Lima Losers' and no one wanted to have anything to do with them. Lastly, it brought new people into Kurt's life. His dad's new love interest—and her son—were soon going to be apart of his world, and he could tell by the sound in his dad's voice and the expression on his face that she'd be in it long-term.

* * *

Much to everyone's dismay, May also meant there would be some goodbyes. The first shock was that Sam's family had financial issues over the past few months. He claimed that he hadn't brought it up until then because he never thought it was that serious. But when his dad found a job out of state that could support his family, they needed to move. Sam's leaving put a dent in the the numbers of The New Directions, leaving them with only eleven members—not enough to compete.

The second, was that Lauren got an early admittance to a summer Wrestling camp in Texas. A scout was at one of her matches, and decided that she'd be a great counselor for the younger kids. Since it was such a prestigious camp, she took the job offer in hopes that it would leave a great mark on her future college application.

That left them with ten.

"Unless we find two more members, guys," Mr. Schue addressed everyone on the eerie Tuesday during the same week Kurt found out the news of his dad's dating life, "We have to give up our Nationals place. Now, I know that none of you want that fate, so I have a proposal."

"Are you going to shave your head?" Santana snapped.

"No, Santana," Mr. Schue didn't get the obvious snap at his Top Ramen hairdo, "We're going to throw a concert this Friday. We have to show the kids at this school that being in glee is fun—it's hip!"

"As long as you don't talk like that, I'm sure we'll have new members in a heartbeat." Santana snapped again.

"Santana, would you just let him speak?" Rachel defended her teacher.

"What was that? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear your voice over the miniature mount Everest that is your nose."

"Santana, that's enough!" Mr. Schue finally decided to grow some dominance. "This is serious, and I know you love being here, so be quiet and listen!"

No one expected that kind of outburst from him. Being the laid-back and cool teacher that he was, that was a completely uncharacteristic moment for him. It did work, however. Santana stayed shut for the rest of the time while Mr. Schue was speaking.

"Now, as I was saying, we're going to throw a concert."

A few hands shot up, flooded with ideas.

"No need for song suggestions, I've already picked our setlist." He walked over the piano, and grabbed a sheet closest to the edge. He smiled while looking at it, which meant it was filled with some crappy oldies that the kids did _not _want to do. Addressing the kids again, he said, "We're going to perform Journey's greatest hits, including our anthem _Don't Stop Believin'._"

There was no hesitation from Kurt, "Mr. Schue, if I may?" Everyone stared at him like he was insane for interrupting. The others might've been cool with singing their grandparents' jams, but not Kurt.

"Sure, Kurt..."

"Why are we performing 'tombstone hits'? No one in this school will want to hear any of that. No offense, but that might just drive people crazy—crazy enough to resent us more than they already do, and act on it." Kurt embraced the condescending looks from his peers as he walked down from his seat to take the floor. "The whole concert thing is a good idea, I just don't think that singing such old songs is a feasible one."

"Well, tickle-me-dough-face, what did you have in mind?" Santana just couldn't keep her mouth shut anymore. It was like she had a variant of tourettes where she always had to insult people with her snide comments.

"Yeah, Kurt, why don't you think it's a good idea?" Artie asked, "Back when their were only five of us, it was the first song we pulled off without ripping at each other's throats."

"Understandable." Kurt said with a tone of defeat—in which Blaine responded to.

"What's the matter?"

"I—I don't think classic rock is a good idea. The kids here don't want to hear the same music that their parents and grandparents bore them with. We need something new, something fresh."

"Fresh, as in?" Mr. Schue joined back in the conversation.

"Oh, I don't know," Kurt smiled at his sheer genius idea, "Gaga, Britney, Ke$ha..."

"A pop concert!" Tina liked the idea.

"As long as I, Brittany S. Pierce, get to have every solo of every song we sing. As I've said before, I'm far more talented than any of you. Lord Tubbington can agree with that."

"Lord Tubbington?" Kurt was confused.

"Her cat," Rachel cleared it up for the new kid, "And Brittany, you _can't_ have every solo. MY voice has been waiting for a moment like this where I can shine and all of you will just sway in the back, singing in the ensemble."

"Or pushing you off the stage." Brittany attacked viciously with words. Santana grinned at her girlfriend, proud of her insulting tone.

"Look—Brittany and Rachel—like every other thing we do, this will have auditions for the solos. We can't be against one another at a time like this," Kurt looked to the curly-haired teacher just watching them all go at it, "What do you say, Mr. Schue?"

Schuester glanced at all of the kids. They were on the edge of their seats, in full support of Kurt and his pop concert idea. As much as he wanted for them to do Journey, they really seemed to want to do something different, "I guess we're having ourselves a pop concert."

* * *

"Finn sweetie, don't make any plans Thursday night," Carole Hudson spoke to her son over Tuesday night dinner. "I need you to meet someone."

"Someone...?" Finn questioned, stuffing a spoonful of white rice into his mouth, "Like, a football scout or something?"

"Don't be silly, you know that I've been seeing someone."

"Oh yeah, Brent—right?" He asked, shoving more rice into his mouth, and taking a large bite out of his drumstick as well.

"Burt—Burt Hummel." Carole corrected Finn, as she stood, taking her plate to the sink.

"Hummel? That sounds familiar."

"He owns the tired shop down on Main Street, _Hummel's Tires and Lube_." She reminded him.

"No... not only that, there's something else." Finn wondered.

"Well, he does have a son that goes to your school. Kurt—I'm pretty sure that was his name."

"No way."

"You know him?"

Finn stopped his mini-feast, "Yeah, he's that kid I was telling you about that joined glee a couple months back—the one that's from New York."

Carole smiled, "That would be him."

"So we're all having dinner together?

"That's the plan." Carole began washing the few dishes that were in the sink as Finn stood to place his plate and cup there as well. "And you better be extra nice to him. You have no idea how scary it might be for him at a new school in a new state—especially since he's gay."

"Mom, relax, he fits right in with—wait, what?"

"So I'm guessing you didn't know?"

Finn had never met a gay person before—hell, Lima has never met a gay person, much less one from the bright lights of New York City. How would he approach Kurt? What would he say and what would he do? He didn't want to seem like a homophobic jerk like most of the other football jocks.

* * *

During the glee meeting the next day, while Kurt was discussing a Katy Perry mash-up with Tina and Rachel, Finn took it upon himself to fulfill his mother's wishes of being a good son.

"Kurt, can I talk to you for a second?" He asked.

Kurt oddly smiled at the towering jock's question. They hadn't had much of an interaction during the time Kurt had been here, so it was definitely a weird thing for Finn to ask seemingly out of the blue, "Sure," He hesitantly replied, "Excuse me, ladies." He announced to the girls before following Finn to the other side of the choir room. "What's going on?"

"Wait, you mean you don't know?"

"I guess not, what are you talking about?"

"Well, this is awkward." Finn didn't really know how or where to start. He just stood there, scratching the back of his head, hoping to find a way to drop the news onto Kurt.

"You're kind of freaking me out here..." Kurt's eyes suddenly shot open, along with a gasp, "Did Patti Lupone die?"

Finn was taken back, "What? I don't even know who that is... but no, not that."

"Oh thank Gaga." Kurt let out a sigh of relief. "Then what is it?"

Finn gathered his thoughts. He took a deep breath, letting out all of the nerves he once held. "I guess I should start by saying that I know your secret—that you like boys." He whispered as if it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world.

That made Kurt laugh, "You're kidding right?"

"What, does everyone know?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"..."

"..."

"So is that all you had to tell me?"

"Kurt!," Rachel shouted across the room, "Brittany needs help deciding which song she should open the show with. Just Dance, or We R Who We R?"

Kurt averted his attention from Finn for a second, "Definitely Just Dance. We want people up and dancing, not thinking that we're going to vomit all over them in an alcohol-induced rage."

"Wanky." Santana muttered under her breath.

"Genius!" Rachel widely smiled at him, going back to writing down the setlist.

"Sorry about that," Kurt readdressed Finn, "What was that big important thing?"

"Oh, right—uhm well—how do I put this?" He took another breath. Not because he was nervous, but because he felt uncomfortable being around Kurt all of a sudden. As odd as it may sound, Finn was intimidated by the Broadway dreamer. "Your dad and my mom, they've been dating."

It didn't really come as a shock to Kurt at this point. After his dad dropped the news to him before, he did a little bit of Facebook digging to find out who the woman's son was, and if he could tolerate him. Finn wasn't the number one option Kurt would've thought of as having to be related to, but he wasn't the complete last either.

"So you're the son?" He asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," Finn replied.

"Ah, I see." Kurt laughed to himself, thinking of their possible future together as bickering brothers, "Well, I've got to get back to helping the girls with the songs. I don't want Rachel stealing every last solo."

"Right."

"But here's my number, you can call or text me later so we can get better acquainted so we're not just awkwardly pushing oue peas around at the dinner table tomorrow night."

"Wanky." Santana overheard the boys, and felt the need to comment on it.

"Shut it, Satan." Kurt snapped back.

"Awesome," Finn's smile grew across his face. Kurt walked back to the girls, and Finn had an inner feeling that the dinner would go rather well.

* * *

Friday morning approached faster than anyone was prepared for, and the New Directions were nervously standing behind the curtains onstage in the auditorium. Every last member had been stricken with nerves—aside from the concert's organizer, Kurt, of course. He stood marched confidently down the row, making sure everyone was in their right positions. He didn't want to mess this up. After the little 'family' dinner he was apart of the night prior, he didn't want anything to ruin his mood further.

"Kurt," Finn reached out.

Kurt ignored him.

"Kurt, come on, you can't hate me forever."

"Watch me." he replied, walking back to his center spot between Santana and Brittany.

Finn followed closely behind, whispering so that none of the stage mics would pick up his voice. "Look, Kurt I'm sorry. I didn't know that what I said would insult you."

"Really, Finn?" Kurt didn't bother even looking back. He stared ahead, waiting for the curtains to rise. "You _really_ didn't think that calling me a fairy prince would hurt my feelings in the slightest? And don't you dare say that I'm being irrational or anything because I'm gay."

"I didn't say that you were being—look, just know that I'm sorry."

"It's showtime, Finn, I've got no time for feeling sorry."


	6. The Newbies

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_The Newbies_

* * *

"I can't believe we didn't recruit anyone," Blaine started in the choir room the following Monday afternoon, "I mean, we were great, weren't we?"

"Yes," Rachel answered, "We were more than great. If no one joins, then that just means they don't appreciate raw talent like ours."

"Don't give up now!" Mr. Schuester strutted into the choir room with a huge grin on his face as if he knew something the others didn't, "I've got some great news!"

"What," Kurt looked the teacher up and down, "are those new shoes? Or were the rules for Nationals changed so that we can compete with less than twelve members?"

"No... and no"

"So what's the great news?" Santana began, "Did you finally realize the vests weren't your thing? I see you're wearing a cardigan."

Britts and a few other chuckled at Santana's comment. Mr. Schue couldn't even resist but laughing. He knew that he loved wearing vests, and switching it up was a little strange.

"Maybe someone actually wants to join the Loser Directions..." Puck sarcastically emitted.

"Yes, Puck," Mr. Schue smiled, "That's exactly what I was going to say!" He shot a glance at the door, making a gesture, welcoming someone. One boy walked in, not too tall, not too short. Not too muscular, not to thin. He had a great body type. It was obvious that he participated in some sort of sport, but wasn't too serious about keeping his body at tip top shape. His dark curls fell just above his dark brown eyes, and the sides of his head were lightly shaved, giving a faded look. He had naturally tanned skin, and his perfect pearly whites really made him a beautiful sight to take in.

Behind him was a girl. She looked like him enough for someone to deduct that the two were related. She also had perfect tan skin, and dark hair. Her brown eyes were a bit lighter, but it wasn't too noticeable. She had high cheekbones, which made her smile look even more bright and beautiful than it already was. The way she walked into the choir room showed that she had some attitude within her, and she wasn't afraid to show it off.

"I'd like to introduce Falsetto and Crescendo Mariano!" Mr. Schue welcomed the fraternal twins into the choir room. They stopped beside him in front of the piano, readying themselves for an introduction.

"So they have names that relate to music—that doesn't mean anything." Rachel defensively put in her comment. She had her eyes locked with Falsetto, who was better looking in Rachel's mind.

"Ah, Rachel Berry," with an attitude, Falsetto began with her soft, seductive voice, "You're the Broadway wannabe with big dreams of heading to New York to rock the big stage. I've heard lots about you."

"So you know how amazing I am, and that-"

"I know how annoying you are, and how loud you can be. I've been in your history class for two years in a row, and I've never met a more annoying person in my life."

"Falsetto," Crescendo spoke, his soothing voice sending chills down the spines of all the girls in the choir room, and Kurt, "Put your claws away, we just got here." He was obviously the older and more reasonable one.

"Whatever."

"So, are you guys going to audition, or what?" Mr. Schue tried to put an end to the tension building in the air.

"Well, why not?" Falsetto kept her glare on Rachel, who cowered under Blaine's arm. "I guess I'll go first, Crescendo?"

"Of course," He made his way up to the only available chair in the top row with the boys, right next to Kurt. "Hello."

"Hi there," Kurt let out a deep sigh full of nerves, "I'm K-Kurt."

"Crescendo, pleasure," The new kid took a quick glance at Kurt's outfit, smiling at the recognition of the brand, "Is that from Marc Jacobs' Spring collection?"

Kurt was taken back. He had yet to meet someone who knew the latest fashion like he did. He never thought he'd meet someone like that, either. He didn't think it'd be a guy either. In his mind, he figured that there were only two types of guys at McKinley; the ignorant jocks that bully anyone they deemed lesser than them, and the bottom-feeders. Those were the chess nerds, gamers, and A/V geeks. And on top of that, Crescendo was totally gorgeous.

"I—yes, it is." Kurt tried to play it off with a small smile, which turned into a huge grin.

"I haven't had the time to purchase anything from said collection, unfortunately," Crescendo spoke, it sent butterflies—no, pterodactyls—through Kurt's entire body. He felt as though any thought he ever had about any other boy was suddenly dumped into the nether regions of his brain, "It looks good on you."

"Thanks," Kurt took the compliment straight to the head. He almost forgot about the nerves he was stricken with, and had some confidence for a change, "Not many straight guys know how to appreciate fashion."

"Who says I'm straight?" Crescendo chuckled

"Excuuuuuuuse me, brother!" Falsetto boomed, putting the spotlight on Kurt and Crescendo, "I'd like to sing, but I can't do so with all of that flirting going on up there."

"Bitchy." Santana made a snide comment, which was intended to be under her breath, but came out louder than she intended.

"I'm sorry?" Falsetto addressed the cheerleader.

"I'm just saying, that you're awfully bitchy, and I don't accept that. I'm the bitch of the club, and it's not big enough for the two of us, so find a new flavor, Fat-setto."

"Santana! That's no way to talk to a potential member of the New Directions," Mr. Schue, late as always, added, "Show some respect."

"I'm just telling it like it is. Besides, I talk to Pinocchio like that all the time, and it's never a big deal."

"Pinocchio?" Mr. Schue questioned in a confused manner.

"I believe she's referring to me," Rachel added, "But I don't take offense to it anymore. I feel as though we've grown through these trying months as a family."

"That's totally gross." Brittany blindly stated.

There was a momentary silence in the choir room. Everyone just kind of awkwardly glanced at each other, until Falsetto finally said, "Can I audition now, or what?"

"Right, of course, the floor is all yours."

* * *

"So."

"So?"

"So, you and Crescendo!" Rachel excitedly nagged Kurt later that night in the Lima Bean. They'd been hanging out ever since the pop concert, always discussing songs for the upcoming Nationals competition.

"I'm not following." Kurt took a small sip of his hazel nut ice coffee.

"Oh don't play dumb! Come on, Kurt," Rachel increasingly became excited, "I could practically smell the love in the air when you two were talking earlier. And although I might've been mixed in an argument with Santana and his sister, I still overheard bits and pieces of you guys' conversation."

"There's nothing going on between us," Kurt took an even bigger sip, "We're barely even friends, and I don't even know him well enough to even tell if I'm attracted to him. Besides, he's the one that brought up Marc Jacobs, not me."

"Fine," Rachel sighed in defeat, "But just know that you'll never hear the end of this from me."

"Don't I know it."

Kurt and Rachel continued with small talk for about an hour. They discussed different set-list ideas for Nationals, what colors their outfits should be, and who they thought should have the spotlight this time around. Rachel decided that if there were going to be auditions for the solo spot, she'd take a chance. That was only until Kurt suggested that they should perform a duet. The theme for this year was _goodbyes_. Each team had to perform at least one song with the the overall theme, and the other song(s) were completely up to them. Of course, the two decided on a classic Broadway number. Both had decided to pick a song that would showcase the best of their singing voices, and that song was _For Good_ from the musical, _Wicked_.

At the next glee meeting, Brittany had suggested wearing cheetah print during one of the performances, which sparked her other idea of singing _It's Over _from _The Cheetah Girls_. No one really agreed with her at first, but after hearing her, Santana, and Tina sing it as a Trio, everyone soon agreed. It was convenient, too, because it fit the _goodbyes_ theme pretty well.

"Now all we have to do is fill in the solo position," Mr. Schue announced, "And since I know that most of you want that spot, I'll hold auditions right after this meeting. And just to let all of you know, I don't care who sings what. So long as we shine and enjoy ourselves up on that stage, we're winners."

Mr. Schue dismissed himself for a moment, letting the club members consult one another for verification on what songs they might sing. Quinn consulted her fellow cheerleaders, with the problem of being indecisive of which _Madonna_ song she should sing. She always thought her voice best matched the Queen of Pop. And although it was a risky move, it was one she felt comfortable taking.

On the other side of the room, Crescendo confided in Kurt, having issues with which song he wanted to audition with as well. Kurt wasn't really helping, though. He just sat there, listening to Crescendo complain how whatever song he thought he might be settling on was too high, too low, or too emotional.

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted their little discussion, "I need some assistance. Rock, or Pop?"

"Excuse me," Crescendo completely stopped babbling for a second, "I don't mean to be rude, but he's sort of helping me out right now."

"Oh," Blaine furrowed his eyebrows, feeling sort of humiliated having his thoughts shut out like that, "Sorry, then."

After Blaine walked back over to Rachel, Kurt questioned his new friend, "What was that all about, Cress?"

"I just didn't think he'd fit in to well with out Broadway chit chat. Not many straight guys do."

"Oh please, he's dating Rachel; the queen of Broadway. If he didn't like that kind of music, then he'd be with Quinn, or one of the other cheerleaders."

"Hm."

"What?"

"You say he's straight, right?"

"Yeah...?"

"I don't think he's as straight as you might think." Crescendo squinted his eyes, reading Blaine's every movement from across the room.

"What makes you say that?"

"Look at him, Kurt. He seems a bit too excited to be helping Rachel sew her bow into her dress. Oh, and the way his face lit up when he came over here—he's definitely on the low."

"You're being ridiculous," Kurt tried shrugging the thoughts out of his head, "If he's gay, why doesn't he just say so?"

"I guess he's just not that confident."

Kurt shot a look at Blaine, re-analyzing everything Crescendo had just said. As much as he hated to admit it, Crescendo might've been right about this one. Yes, he wanted Blaine to be on his team before, but now Kurt could only think of the negative outcomes if Blaine really were to prance on out of the closet waving a rainbow flag.

"I just feel bad for Rachel," Crescendo began once more, "Come to find out her boyfriend really likes boys, she'd be so hurt."


	7. Someone Like You

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Someone Like You_

* * *

Rachel stood in the smack-dab in the center of her dream city. She spun around, taking in the luminous bright lights of Time Square. With her team sitting behind her on the huge red staircase where numerous movies have been filmed, she felt like the world stopped just for her.

"I made it!" she exclaimed.

"How does it feel?" Kurt approached the starstruck girl.

"I can't even begin to explain how I'm feeling right now!" Rachel grabbed Kurt's arm, twirling him in his place, "How is it that you're so calm? Broadway is your dream just as much as its mine!"

"After seventeen years of living here, it all seems so...blah," Kurt looked around at the city he once called home. It's not that he didn't love it, but he was _used_ to it, "I mean, of course I want to come back. I just want to come back on different terms."

"Different terms?"

"Yeah, like to perform on Broadway, or on tour at Madison Square Garden, or even filming a hit film that'll launch my career as a performer." Kurt's expression became his usual happy-go-lucky one as he explained to Rachel what he wanted for himself.

"Well after we win Nationals, you'll be one step closer to your dream," Rachel threw her arms around the taller boy's neck, embracing him. She couldn't believe she was envious of him before. She realized now that she had been foolish to show an animosity toward him in the first place, "I won't let you give up, Kurt."

"I won't let you give up, either." Kurt said. As Rachel hugged him, he looked over her shoulder. He could see The new girl flaunting her body and being all over Blaine in a flirtatious manner. What was odd is that Blaine didn't seem to notice, or care, for that matter. "Rachel, look." Kurt said, backing off from the hug.

Rachel said nothing to Kurt. She slowly turned away from him to see the girl that Santana so cleverly named "Fat-setto" flirting with Blaine. New York, her dreams, Kurt, and even Barbra Streisand were lost in her mind. The only thing she could see mentally was Falsetto dying in a fire. One could call Rachel the attached and jealous type.

"Blaine!" Rachel shouted, marching her way to the two, "What the _hell_ is going on?"

Blaine turned his head to greet his girlfriend, "Hey, Rachel."

"Don't you _hey Rachel_ me! What are you doing?"

"Nothing, I—Falsetto was just telling me about he she loved Barbra's acting in _Funny Girl_." Blaine obliviously stated.

"Yeah, Rachel," Falsetto made herself known, "I don't know why you're getting so heated. Blaine and I were just discussing our favorite classic musicals, and-"

"Shut up, you deceiving little vixen!" That was enough for Rachel to snap. Within seconds, she was on top of Falsetto, pulling her hair and screaming a slew of profanities she would never say aloud.

"Rachel!" Kurt called out, running over to the scrap. He and Blaine had to play mom and dad by pulling the two girls apart. Blaine had grabbed Rachel first, leaving Kurt to pull Falsetto away. For two petite girls, they sure put up a fight to break free and continue ripping each other's hair out.

"Rachel, stop it! Calm down!" Blaine shouted, pulling his ferocious girlfriend away.

"Why? Huh? So you can just latch me back onto your leash?" Rachel finally broke free of Blaine's grasp. Only she didn't charge for Falsetto as most of the spectators in the club expected. She kept her eyes on Blaine, burning right through him. "You know, I thought you were different. I thought that the Blaine who was so great to me—the Blaine that helped me through all the bullying was the same throughout all of these months! I can see that you've obviously changed." Rachel whipped her head around, facing Kurt, who was still struggling to keep Falsetto grounded, "And you. I thought the best out of you. But then you went and copied Santana's attitude, and now your idol is _my_ Barbra all of a sudden? Oh, and let me not forget that you're sitting here, trying to steal my boyfriend!"

"Rachel-"

"Blaine, stop it!" she interrupted, "Until you can decide who or what you want, we're done."

* * *

In their hotel room, Kurt and Blaine sat across from each other, readying their outfits for the competition. Much to Kurt's distress, they had also been sharing a room with Puck and Finn who, luckily, were busying themselves in the streets of New York at the time being. The boys' outfits were all almost completely similar, except for the fact that Blaine refused to wear a regular tie, because he claimed that the tie he had was too long and it always went past his belt, no matter how he tied it. So he had a bow-tie. All of their outfits had the same black pants, black shoes, black suspenders, and black ties (with an exception to Blaine's bow-tie).

"Kurt?"

"Yeah, Blaine?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Kurt stopped ironing his pants to look up at the puppy-eyed boy.

"What was wrong with Rachel earlier?" Blaine looked to the corner of the room, recalling the events that took place just a few hours ago, "I don't think I was doing anything wrong by talking to Falsetto."

"Rachel's just... Rachel." He didn't know how else to describe the girl he had gotten so close to in such a short amount of time. "She usually see's the dramatic side of any situation, and exaggerates it. So maybe when she saw you talking to Falsetto, she actually saw you making advances."

"That's insane." Blaine chuckled.

"That's Rachel."

Both boys laughed, exchanging small glances at one another.

"But," Kurt said once more, "Don't take this too lightly. Try to make amends with her. Even if you don't know what for, try to apologize. Girls like Rachel just want the spotlight to be on them 24/7."

* * *

"And now all the way from Lima, Ohio, please give a warm welcome to the McKinley High New Directions!"

Backstage, Kurt and Rachel awaited their amazing performance. Kurt could see the hurt on her face, so he bothered her with the all-too cliché question, "Are you okay?"

"No, Kurt," she replied, "But the show must go on."

The two walked onto the stage alone. Rachel had her long brunette hair in curls, and she wore a frilly white dress that stopped right above her knees. She wore black heels and a sash around her waist to match.

Kurt was decked out in the clothes he had been ironing earlier when he had that little chat with Blaine. Something to notice was that his hair was messier than usual. It annoyed him at first, but he slowly grew to like some of the strands of his light brown his in his face due to all of the attention he received from Crescendo.

"Good evening everyone," Rachel introduced, "I'm Rachel Berry, and this is Kurt Hummel. We are the New Directions." After she spoke, the rest of the glee clubbers walked out onto the stage. The girls all matched Rachel, and the boys matched Kurt.

The piano keys immediately played once everyone had been in their positions.

_"I'm limited.  
Just look at me.  
I'm limited.  
And just look at you.  
You can do all I couldn't do.  
Glinda...  
So now it's up to you,  
For both of us.  
Now it's up to you..."_

Rachel sang softly, smiling at the friend she had made within Kurt. Nearing the last few words, she looked to him as if she was signaling him to begin his part—in which he did.

_"...I've heard it said,  
That people come into our lives,  
For a reason.  
Bringing something we must learn.  
And we are lead to those,  
Who help us most to grow if we let them.  
And we help them in return.  
Well I don't know if I believe that's true.  
But I know I'm who I am today,  
Because I knew you..."_

Kurt took a few steps closer to Rachel, grabbing her hands once he got face to face. They both exchanged smiles, turning to the audience.

_"...Like a comet pulled from orbit,  
As it passes a sun.  
Like a stream that meets a boulder,  
Halfway through the wood.  
Who can say if I've been changed for the better,  
But because I knew you,  
I have been changed for good..."_

Rachel began once more,

_"...It well may be,  
That we will never meet again,  
In this lifetime.  
So let me say before we part,  
So much of me,  
Is made of what I learned from you.  
You'll be with me,  
Like a handprint on my heart.  
And now whatever way our stories end,  
I know you'll have rewritten mine,  
By being my friend.  
Like a ship blown from it's mooring,  
By a wind off the sea.  
Like a sea dropped by a sky bird,  
In a distant wood.  
Who can say if I've been changed for the better,  
But because I knew you..."_

She looked to Kurt as if she needed a savior, in which he responded with the lyric,

_"Because I knew you..."_

Then, the two sang together,

_"...I have been changed for good..."_

Kurt and Rachel continued singing with sincerity until the song's end. What started as them simply singing their favorite song turned into something more. Both needed a friend, and they got that out of the performance. The two received a standing ovation from the audience, and their immediate response was to hug it out. Once it died out, however, they blended back into the group towards the back of the stage and the lights went dark.

"Kurt, I just realized something." Rachel whispered.

"Hm?"

"Mr. Schue never told us who'd sing the solo!" She whisper-shouted in reply. Rachel had an internal panic attack. The numerous Broadway showstoppers in her repertoire rushed through her head so fast that they all seemed to blend together. Nothing seemed right for the moment, which made her panic even more.

"So what do we do? Just skip to the group number, or-"

_"I heard that you're settled down  
That you found a girl and you're married now.  
I heard that your dreams came true.  
Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you..."_

A soft tenor voice was heard. The spotlight zoomed across the stage, looking for its source, but it didn't find any.

_"...Old friend, why are you so shy?  
Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light..."  
_

The voice sang once more, only this time, the spotlight finally found where it was coming from. The double-doors leading out to the lobby were blocked by one emotional curly-haired Blaine Anderson.

_"...I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited  
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.  
I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded  
That for me it isn't over..."_

He made his way down the aisle, singing the familiar Adele song, blatantly aiming his emotions toward Rachel.

_"...Never mind, I'll find someone like you  
I wish nothing but the best for you too  
Don't forget me, I beg  
I remember you said,  
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,  
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead..." _

Blaine continued to sing, moving the audience with his voice. Tears streamed down his face, and he was trapped in a glass case of emotion. Rachel, too, was in her very own case. She was compelled to walk exit stage left once Blaine stepped foot on it. She just couldn't handle Blaine singing to her.

Once the song was finished, and the audience was in a full-blown applause, Brittany made herself noticed by stepping out of the background, and walking into Blaine's spotlight. "Hi, I'm Brittany S. Pierce and we're going to be singing the Cheetah Girls now. So Blaine, please stop crying." The audience couldn't help but chuckle at her obliviousness.

* * *

On the plane ride home, the New Directions were all staring in awe at their second place trophy. It wasn't as big and glamorous as first place, but it still meant that they sort of won at Nationals. Ironically, a group from New Jersey won first place with _Don't Stop Believin'_ being their showstopping number. Apparently they had more heart than the New Directions in their performances. Mr. Schue never shut up about how he believed in them, and how he always knew that they could do it. It was flattering, but annoying at the same time annoyingly overwhelming.

For the remaining few weeks of school, things at McKinley were pretty calm. It was the longest period of time that went by without any of the glee club members getting slushied. To them, that was probably the biggest accomplishment that any of them could ever hope to achieve in their high school lives. For once, everything was pretty normal. That is, until a familiar face showed up at the last glee club meeting of the year.

"Mercedes!" Kurt exclaimed, as he interrupted Mr. Schue's lecture once the dark-skinned girl walked into the choir room. He ran to her as a bride would run to her groom on their honeymoon.

"I knew you'd be back, Aretha." Santana said, being the second to get up from her seat to follow Kurt in embracing Mercedes. Soon, everyone else were out of their seats and embracing her in the biggest group hug they'd ever given. Minus Falsetto and Crescendo, of course, who were completely oblivious as to who this girl was.

"What brings you around these parts?" Tina asked, as the hug broke apart.

Mercedes peered over her shoulder, taking in their Nationals trophy, and said, "First, I wanted to congratulate you guys on placing at Nationals. I also wanted to say how much I've missed each and every one of you. And I'm transferring back here once summer is over." She couldn't get rid of her Cheshire Cat smile the entire time she spoke.

"That's great and everything," Falsetto stood from her seat, cross-armed with attitude, "But who are you? You look kind of like a bag of walking skittles."

Mercedes quickly put on her _oh no you didn't_ face. She parted her friends like the red sea, and was in Falsetto's face in an instant, "I'm Mercedes Jones, and if you want to keep that pretty little smirk, you best stay out of my way. Understand?" Falsetto nodded in fear. "Good. Because I won't hesitate to cut you."

"Mercedes, Rachel started, "I can honestly say that I miss you, your impeccable style, your talent, and of course, your-"She stopped talking ever so suddenly. Holding a hand over her mouth, she darted out of the choir room, making a beeline for the nearest bathroom. Mercedes and Kurt followed, making sure she was alright.

"Rachel?" Kurt asked as he naturally walked into the girls' restroom with Mercedes by his side.

"She's in here!" Mercedes said, opening the stall where she could see Rachel's feet sticking out from under the door.

"Are you alright?" Kurt asked.

"No," She coughed, "I think that I might be-" She was cut off by more of her breakfast making its way back up.

"No, you can't be!" Kurt exclaimed, saying it as if it were impossible.

"Oh Jesus Christ, don't you dare!" Mercedes added.

"Pregnant."


	8. Seniors

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Seniors_

* * *

The first day of school would always be the most exciting. You get to return to the craziness of every day High School drama. It was the one day you get to spill out all the things you did over summer break to your friends, and even the teachers who asked. Of course, there would always be one student claiming they went all around the world, or something bizarre like traveled across the Sahara, or hiked Everest. Rest assured, the summer for the New Directions couldn't have been any more normal than what they had hoped. _Normal, right._

"We're seniors!" Tina cheerfully busted through the front doors of the ever dreary McKinley High School building. In her left arm was a brightly colored, and slightly slimmer Mercedes. And in her right, was a taller, more mature looking Kurt.

"This is going to be our year, I just know it!" Mercedes spoke with the same enthusiasm.

"I just hope this year is fun, you know? These are supposed to be the best years of our lives, and last year was pretty dramatic." Kurt brought the mood down with his realism.

"Damn boy," Mercedes said, "do you know how to jinx us or what?" She laughed, "All I know is, we're going through this year together, and nothing will break us apart."

"You could say that again!" Tina smiled as the trio continued walking down the main hall headed towards the choir room.

They made small talk, sharing very vague descriptions of what they did over the summer. Mercedes went shopping pretty much every other day, and she also changed up her diet, which resulted in some of her weight lost. Tina spent most of her summer working with Mike at an Asian performing arts camp. He taught dance, and she dealt with singing. Kurt.. Well Kurt had more than an amazing summer. He got to go back to New York for most of it, and he helped direct a summer school production of Wicked (his favorite musical). He also found a new beau.

"Oh my God." Kurt spoke, stunned, in the doorway of the choir room. "Oh my _God!"_ he said once more.

"Are we—are we being punked?" Tina panicked, her smile quickly died out.

"No freaking way." Mercedes finally took in what the other two were so hit by.

The choir room was empty. Not just 'oh no one is here' empty. But _empty._ No chairs. No piano. No band members. No instruments. No white board. No Brad...

"Everything's gone..." Mercedes took a few steps into the room, and her voice echoed.

"But how?" Tina followed, "Who could've done this?"

Kurt shrugged as he walked in behind the girls. He slowly spun, reassuring himself of the absence of anything he remembered in the room.

"And where are the others?" Mercedes asked.

"No telling." Kurt answered.

The trio stood in the choir room for a few more minutes. They figured that no one would be coming, since the period had begun already, and Rachel nor Blaine had ever been late to a meeting. After five more minutes, Kurt shot out the idea of heading to the auditorium. Since there was nothing else they could do, the girls agreed.

In the auditorium, their teary eyes quickly changed into those of excitement.

"Okay, this is definitely the Twilight Zone." Mercedes said. In the aisles of the auditorium were students. And lots of them. They had all appeared to be auditioning for a spot on the New Directions. But there was the question of why lingering in the back of their minds.

Down by the front of the line, Crescendo noticed the trio at the door. He made it his business to walk up to them and clear the obvious confusion on their faces.

"Good morning," he began, oh so coyly, "Kurt, Tina-"

"Mercedes." she reminded.

"Right, sorry about that." he smiled, "It's about time you guys got here!"

"Well, no one sent us the memo that we'd be meeting in the auditorium." Tina replied.

"Didn't you guys see the note on the choir room door?" Crescendo asked as if it weren't the most obvious thing in the world.

"Guess not," Kurt began, "Although you should have seen us, we were a bunch of lost puppies looking for our owners." he ended with a chuckle.

"You're so cute when you get all emotional, you know that?" Crescendo blushed, staring intently into Kurt's eyes.

"And you're so cute when you—well you're just cute." Kurt softly planted a kiss onto the tan boy's lips, still smiling.

"Whoa," Mercedes was taken back, "When did _that_ happen?"

"Let's just say we had a great summer," Crescendo paused, "A _great_ summer.

"Oh shutup!" Kurt nudged his boyfriend on the shoulder.

"Gay relationships aside," Tina intruded, "What are all these people doing here?"

"Auditioning."

"Excuse me?"

"Hard to believe, right?" Crescendo looked down at his clipboard, "Apparently, there's over 50 kids on that line, and we've already dismissed just about the same amount."

"Wow." Kurt, Mercedes, and Tina said at the same time.

"Yeah," A familiar voice came form behind Crescendo, "Surprising, I know." Rachel made herself known. "But the problem is, their all really bad. And I'm not just saying that because I'm clearly more talented than every person with vocal chords in the state of Ohio."

Kurt coughed, hinting an attack at her being self centered.

"What Rachel means is... well, yeah that's pretty much it. These people suck, I mean look at them."

The five New Directions members all turned to look at the next girl walking onto the stage. She was short, possibly a freshman, and she had long black hair that mirrored Rachel's.

"What's your name?" Santana's voice came from the center of the audience, where Mr. Schue would always sit any time they had a performance in the auditorium.

"K-Kendra Smith." The girl answered with a very light tone.

"What are you singing?" Brittany's voice came from the same place Santana's had. At a closer observation, you could see that Santana was sitting in between her and Falsetto, judging all the potential newcomers.

"Miley Cyrus's 'The Climb."

"So sing!" Falsetto added rudely.

The poor girl was traumatized by the intimidating attitudes of the judges. She grabbed the mic in front of her, and attempted to sing.

"Oh God, stop!" Falsetto shouted, but the girl kept going, thinking she was actually good judging by the way she was bobbing her head.

"STOP!" Santana practically broke the mic with the loudness of her voice. Kendra jumped, obviously startled by the raging Latina."

"Was—was I bad?"

"Bad?" Santana chuckled along with both Brittany and Falsetto. "Sweetie, you were terrible! You sounded like a dying cat going through open heart surgery. Do you scrape sandpaper against your vocal chords every morning, or were you just born that awful?"

"Lord Tubbington just texted me and said he heard you all the way from kitty daycare. He said he thought the world was ending." Brittany felt the need to add.

Kendra hysterically cried, running off the stage.

"Next!" Falsetto shouted, crossing Kendra's name off of her clipboard.

"Wow." Kurt turned back to the others.

"Yeah." Rachel agreed. "So are you guys joining us later?"

"For...?" Mercedes asked.

"The first official glee gathering of the year, of course. After these auditions are over, we'll know exactly if there are any new members."

"But the choir room..." Kurt began.

"Oh yeah," Crescendo said, revealing the news as to why the choir room had been emptied. "We moved everything from the choir room downtown. Its all at the karaoke club where Blaine works."

"We struck a deal with the manager," Rachel said, "We're going to be having our meetings their from now on. We figured that practicing in front of a live audience will help with confidence and all that."

"Right." Tina smiled at the idea.

"How are you two?" Kurt felt the compulsive need to ask. "You and Blaine I mean?"

"We're...okay, I guess. We had our drama over the summer what with the pregnancy and all..." her voice trailed off.

That was when Kurt looked down at her stomach, trying to see the progress of her baby bump. She held her clipboard close, so he couldn't really make anything of it. In his mind, it was rude to ask, so he just ignored it.

"Sorry to hear that." Mercedes said.

* * *

Later that day, after Santana, Falsetto, and Brittany brutally rejected every single person hoping to join the New Directions, the glee clubbers met up at the karaoke club just like Crescendo had said they would. It was thrilling for everyone to be in the presence of one another again.

Mercedes and Tina talked the latest celebrity gossip. Puck, Finn, and Mike were discussing different Colleges and Universities where both football and musical theater were offered. Quinn and Arite were in a booth, being all cuddly with one another. They had apparently become a couple over the summer. Strange. Falsetto, Brittany, and Santana were all talking about _who_ they did rather than what they did over the summer. Brittany won their little competition, as she had slept with one of the Cheerios and their boyfriend at the same time. Threesomes counted for more than just hooking up with one other person, it seemed.

Rachel, Kurt, and Crescendo were in their own little musical world, talking about taking a road trip to New York over Spring Break to see a bunch of Broadway plays. The only one they had set in stone so far was Wicked. Other thoughts were Evita, How To Succeed In Business, and RENT.

Blaine was off alone, on the stage of the restaurant, setting up the equipment. Tonight, the place was reserved for the New Directions, so he didn't have to put on an apron and take orders. He was tuning a guitar when Kurt broke away from Rachel and his boyfriend to confront him.

"Hey, Blaine."

"Kurt." He didn't bother looking up from the guitar.

"Wow, attitude much?"

"I just haven't been in the greatest moods as of yet."

"I can see that."

Blaine stood silent for a moment. He then looked up to unintentionally fall under Kurt's spell by looking into his eyes. Blaine smiled, asking, "Okay, fine. How was your summer?"

"It was great," Kurt sat on the stool next to Blaine's, "I got to go back home, see some old friends; it was more than amazing. How was yours?"

"Eh."

"Eh?"

"Not so good." Blaine began with the short responses again.

"Did it have to do anything with Rachel?"

Blaine heard Kurt, but didn't answer. He glanced over to Rachel, who seemed to be unfazed by the events that went on between the two by the way she was laughing and smiling along with Crescendo.

"Blaine?"

"Yeah," He broke, "Rachel's to blame."

"Blame? What do you mean she's to blame?"

Blaine, with a heavy sigh, replied, "Don't worry about it."


	9. Tipsy

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Tipsy_

* * *

"_BLAAAAAINE!" A monstrous voice screeched from all directions. Blaine was literally in the middle of nowhere, walking in circles when the voice called out again ,"BLAINE WHY?"_

"_Why? Why what?" Blaine tried to get an answer from the angered voice. But there was nothing. He kept walking, screaming back at the voice every time it called his name._

"_SHE KILLED—BLAINE WHY?"_

"_What do you want?" Blaine fell to his knees on what appeared to be gray-colored sand. He took a handful and lifted his hand a few inches from the ground to let it fall from his fingers, "What do you want from me?"_

"_Wake up." A different, softer voice appeared, "Blaine, wake up!"_

"_Wake up?"_

"_Yes, Wake up! No sleeping in my class!"_

_What?_ "What?" Blaine shot up from his slumber. At first glance, he realized he'd only been dreaming. He was now back at his desk located in the center of the classroom where sexual education was taught.

"What did I say about sleeping during my sexy sex ed class?"

"Don't?"

"Exactly." the spunky blonde teacher, Ms. Holiday, placed a cucumber and a condom onto his desk. He looked around at the other desks, and each student had their own cucumber and condom. Were they doing some kind of experiment? Was the cucumber supposed to represent a-

_RIIIIING!_

_Saved by the bell,_ Blaine thought to himself. He completely ignored the odd experiment on his desk, and walked toward the door. As he approached Ms. Holiday, he felt the need to apologize for sleeping in her class.

"If my sex ed class is that boring, I can just send you to the library or something." Ms. Holiday said, "I'd rather you not having wet dreams in class."

"No—I didn't—I..."

"It's okay, Blaine. Most boys your age can't get sex out of their minds."

"I wasn't dreaming about _sex_," he whispered the word as if it were a sin to speak of it, "I just haven't been sleeping well lately."

"Whatever you say, Anderson, just don't let it happen again."

Blaine nodded his head. His eyes followed the young teacher walking over to the chalkboard, and writing 'Sex in the gay community' in big letters on it.

"I have a free period now," Blaine started, "maybe I can make up for lost class time?"

Ms. Holiday smiled, gesturing the gel-headed boy to take a seat. As he did so, the next class rushed in and soon filled up the seats all around him. Once the second bell roared to life, beginning class, Ms. Holiday started her lecture. She spoke about a few differences between 'straight sex' and 'gay sex', letting the kids' imagination piece together the rest. Once her lecture was over, she gave a quick oral quiz, asking the students simple questions based on what she just spoke about.

Of course, most of the students had the wrong answers. It was only because the class had been mostly male, and they were repulsed by the idea of two men going at it. But Blaine seemed very interested. Her lecture had actually gotten his mind off of his weird dreams, and even Rachel for a while.

"...So when two men are ready to get down and dirty, the 'top' puts on his condom and thrusts his pulsating manhood right up the other's-"

_RIIING!_

Blaine, and everyone else in the class, had been saved by the bell once more. The students couldn't wait to get out of that class. In a matter of seconds, Blaine was the only one left behind. And he didn't really mind it, because he was in no rush to get to his Psychology class.

"So is sex really _that_ different for gays?" He couldn't help but ask, "I mean, wouldn't it hurt?"

"How about you go and find our for yourself, hot stuff?"

"I-"

"Straight?"

"Yeah."

"Awkward."

"Pretty much." the color in Blaine's face flushed away, leaving only red, "I was just curious, actually."

"About your sexuality?"

"What? No!" He defended, "I mean about gay sex, I'm interested in it."

Ms. Holiday raised a brow, wanting to laugh at the boy.

"No, I mean—that's not what I meant!"

Ms. Holiday chuckled at Blaine's dismay. He sighed in defeat, leaving the classroom because he felt the awkwardness growing the longer he stood there.

"Oh, sorry!" In a rush to get out of the classroom, he literally ran into someone in the hallway, accidentally knocking down all of their books.

"It's okay, I—Blaine?" the other boy looked up.

"Oh, Crescendo, hey." Blaine responded. He picked up a few books, then handed it to the other boy. They both stood, and Blaine said, "Sorry, I'm all out of sorts today."

"Yeah, you look like you could us a pick-me-up, no offense."

"None taken."

Awkward silence.

"So, Kurt and I were just headed to meet up for lunch, care to join us?" Crescendo's inner nice guy had to offer. After all, Blaine looked like he could break at any moment. His hair wasn't gelled, and his clothes weren't color-coordinated—which they always were.

"Oh, no, I couldn't just intrude..."

"Nonsense! You won't be intruding."

Blaine truly didn't want to sit with the new couple, and watch them flaunt their happiness. "I have uhm... I have a Psych test later, so maybe I should just hit the library for some last minute studying."

Crescendo was nearly reluctant to back away from his original offer, "Suit yourself. Just know you're more than welcome to join us."

"Thanks." Blaine said, dismissing himself in the opposite direction.

"Oh, and Kurt says he needs to tell you something!" Crescendo spoke in a way where Blaine couldn't really brush him off, "Come to Breadstix tonight at eight!"

* * *

_At Breadstix..._

Kurt and Crescendo sat together in one side of the booth reserved. Finn and Blaine sat opposite of the couple. There was small talk, bread sticks, and lots of cheesecake at the table. It was as if the purpose of this meeting had been forgotten just as easily it was organized.

Then Blaine finally remembered, "Kurt, didn't you have something to tell me?"

Kurt shot a look to Blaine, showing the he had forgotten completely about it, "Oh, that's right! Thanks for reminding me." His face lit up as he began to explain, "To put it plain and simple, this emo Blaine has got to go. I'm not saying you have to start dressing like your preppy self again what with the gelled hair and short pants, but you have to stop being so damn sad all the time. It's depressing."

Blaine stood silent.

"Yeah dude," Finn added to Kurt's argument, "You need some serious cheering up."

"What did you guys have in mind?" Blaine finally asked.

Kurt and Finn exchanged glances, then brightly smiled. Finn turned to Blaine and said, "A party."

"A party?" Blaine seemed almost frightened of the idea,

"Yes, a party." Kurt said, "But just between all of the glee kids. It'll be just the kind of thing you need!"

"I don't think I-"

"Blaine, listen," Kurt showed dominance, "You've apparently had a shit summer, and we're here to help you out. There's no way you're going to sit here and tell me that you don't want this. I can see it on your face that you're dying for an escape, and this party is it."

_Damn_. Blaine had never seen Kurt take control of a situation like that. He was so forceful with his voice... it sent chills through his spine. "I uh—I have to go." Blaine abruptly stood up, placing his hands over his crotch. "I'll come to the party—I just really should be home right now!" He said, practically sprinting out of Breadstix.

"That was odd..." Finn said.

"Very." Kurt agreed.

Ignoring Blaine's impromptu Rachel Berry storm off, Crescendo said, "So you guys are sure the party is on?"

"Yeah, our parents are going to Cleveland for a funeral. They won't be back until Monday." Finn smiled.

"I still can't believe that you two are brothers now, it's so strange."

"I still can't believe they got married without consulting us!" Kurt felt hurt by his dad's decision, "I mean, I would've arranged and planned everything!"

"Well, that's what people do in Vegas when they're not gambling."

"I know, but-"

"Kurt."

"Sorry."

"Anyway," Crescendo stopped the brothers from bickering, "The Hummel-Hudson house party train-wreck extravaganza is a go?"

"Hell. Yes!"

* * *

The following Friday night was the big party. After Burt and Carole left, Finn called over Puck, who had the hookups to get a bunch of liquor and beer. Kurt took all of Carole's special vases and china plates to his her bedroom for safekeeping. There was no telling how wild these glee kids would get.

Puck, along with Mike, arrived about an hour before the party officially started. Puck walked into the household with two coolers full of an assortment of beers, and Mike followed, holding four huge bottles of Ciroc, and Bacardi (2 each).

"We are going to get so messed up tonight!" Mike danced his way into the kitchen, setting the bottles down.

"It's still so hard to believe that little Kurtsie is throwing a party that doesn't involve Broadway trivia." Puck snickered. "My boy is all grown up."

"First off, Puckerman, I'm not your boy," Kurt walked into the kitchen, grabbing a red plastic cup, and making himself a pre-party drink."And second, I think it's time I show a different side to Kurt Hummel."

"It's about damn time." Puck said as he grabbed a beer from one of the coolers. "So tell me, Kurt, have you and music boy been going at it?"

"Puck!" Finn shouted as if he were saying 'shut the hell up' instead.

"What? I'm curious."

"Dude, that's gross. He's my brother!" Finn ripped open another package of red cups, setting them on the table near the drinks. "I don't want to hear about his sex life."

"Because he's gay?" Mike quipped.

"Because he's my brother, like I said. And I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to be hearing about my sex life either."

"What sex life?" Kurt shot out.

"Hummel with the burn!" Puck high-fived Kurt, and awkwardly bowed. "Besides, I only ask because I've never seen him so lax. I mean, a plain white shirt and jeans? That's unusual. What happened to the whole vest and tie thing?"

"You actually pay attention to my outfits?" Kurt saw an opportunity for another joke, "You sure you're not gay yourself?" He mocked.

Just about an hour later, everyone began to arrive. Quinn and Artie were dropped off by his dad. Mercedes, Rachel, and Tina carpooled, as did Brittany Falsetto, and Santana.

Blaine and Crescendo arrived later, when the party was already in full swing. Most, if not all, of the teens were already drunk and going crazy.

"Crescendo!" Kurt shouted over the deafening music, "You made it!"

"I'm just dropping off Blaine!" He shouted back, "I need to be designated driver for him and my sister later on. And I can't do that with you making me want to drink!"

Kurt put on a sad face, "That sucks!" He grabbed Crescendo's hand, dancing in a trance.

"I'll call you tomorrow!" Crescendo shouted, giving Kurt a peck on the cheek, and leaving Blaine to party on. He really wanted to stay and party, but he felt he couldn't do that without having at least one drink. So he left.

As the door closed behind his boyfriend, Kurt grabbed Blaine's arm, rushing him to the kitchen. He mixed a bunch of different liquids together, not really sure what he was doing. But once he handed the cup to Blaine, he knew he must've made a masterpiece. Blaine was chugging it down as if it were the sweet nectar of the Gods above.

Blaine, being a lightweight, was drunk in less than a half hour. The room rotated around him, and he just wanted to fall asleep anywhere his head could rest. Kurt took it upon himself to take Blaine to his room so he could sleep, but that wasn't the best idea. He walked in on Brittany and Santana in a full-blown make out session that he could see was going to turn into something much more dirty. He closed the door, and headed down the hall to Finn's empty room.

The two plopped onto Finn's bed, falling backward and staring at the ceiling to wait for the room to stop spinning. It was no use.

"I feel—I feel like Snooki." Kurt's words slurred as his giggled beside Blaine. He was a 'happy' drunk.

"_What's the time?_" Blaine began to sing, or so he thought he was was singing. It was more of a soft mumble than anything. "_Well it's gotta be close to midnight. My body's talking to me, it says 'time for danger!'"_

Kurt realized what Blaine was trying to sing, and went along with it, _"It says I want to commit a crime. Wanna be the cause of a fight!"_

The two then 'sang' together, _"Wanna put on a tight skirt, and flirt with a stranger!_" They began to laugh, burping up some built up gas as well.

"You're awesome, Kurt." Blaine said in a mumble.

"I know." Kurt replied, laughing. "I'm so tired." He threw his arm over Blaine's chest, letting out a sigh of relief once the warmth greeted him.

"Kurt," Blaine mumbled nervously, "Your arm..."

"Oh, sorry." Kurt couldn't gather the strength to lift his own arm up off of Blaine, so he slid it down. In the process, he grazed over the growing bulge in Blaine's pants. "Woops."

"It's okay." Blaine responded. The boys lied there for a while, feeling completely alone. But the music coming from downstairs reminded them that they weren't.

"Kurt," Blaine broke the silence with a slightly more understandable voice, "Can I..." Blaine's voice trailed off. He got closer to Kurt on the bed, bringing his hand up to caress his cheek as he carefully kissed Kurt from his neck up to his lips on at a time.

Kurt didn't resist. He let Blaine turn him on, and eventually turned to kiss him back. "This isn't—I have-"

"Shh..." Blaine began to slowly lift Kurt's shirt, letting him fall in a drunken submission. "Let me love you."


	10. Last Friday Night

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Last Friday Night_

* * *

The bright Saturday afternoon sun shone over the Hummel-Hudson household. Not one thing had gone wrong outside the party. No cops were called, which was surprising because the residents of the surrounding houses were killjoys. There also weren't any crashers. That was also a plus, because Kurt had made it his duty to make sure only his fellow glee members were admitted.

In the living room, the aftermath of the house party was extremely apparent. The few couches that resided in the room were moved around, along with the carpet underneath the coffee table. Red cups were all over the floor as if there were a lot more people were at this party. _You'd think the New Directions would know how to reuse their own cups. _

Just in front of the television setup, was a near-naked Mike Chang spooning with his fully clothed girlfriend, Tina. Both shared the same messy hairstyle. Mercedes was sprawled across the coffee table, holding a couch pillow close to her as if it were a life jacket and the table was a wooden plank ripped off of the Titanic. In the corner of the living room, near a cracked window, were Artie and Quinn. Quinn was sitting in Artie's wheelchair with him sitting on her lap. She looked like an elementary school teacher comforting a crying student.

Outside of the house, in the backyard, were Rachel and Puck. He would be naked if it weren't for the snug batman briefs he had on. A few feet from him, Rachel lied underneath a red and black plaid picnic blanket. It stopped just at her chest, showing enough skin to make the assumption that she was exposed as well.

On the upper level of the house were Brittany, Santana, and Falsetto, and Blaine and Kurt, and Finn. The girls all lied together in Kurt's room, snuggle closely on his bed. Santana had an arm around Brittany, and Falsetto's arm was over Santana. They obviously felt cold in the night, and had to get close for warmth. Finn was passed out in the hallway separating he and Kurt's rooms. Kurt and Blaine were nestled together in Finn's room, under the sheets. Both boys had a severe case of bedhead, which was an odd sight. Even in sleep, the two usually had a decent looking hairstyle.

"Blaine," Kurt groggily rubbed his eyes, opening them to a bright room that immediately sent daggers through his mind. He cringed, and realized the other boy was closer than he pictured. He lifted part of the sheet from his body to see Blaine's muscular arm set across his chest. "Blaine," he nudged, "Wake up."

"..."

"Blaine!" Kurt's eyes finally adjusted to the brightness of the room, and reality set in. He threw Blaine's arm off of him, and hastily—also quite literally—jumped out of the bed. A cool breeze let him know that he was completely exposed for anyone to see. To that, he looked down at the foot of the bed, and saw a pile composed of both boys' clothes to which he grabbed the first recognizable piece of clothing of his. A shirt. He threw it on over his head, and realized it was a bit too big. _It's Blaine's_ he thought to himself.

"Kurt?" Blaine rubbed his eyes, slowly turning to try and find Kurt through blurred vision. "What—What's going on?"

"Blaine, get up!" Kurt continued to rummage through the pile until he found his pants. He slipped them on, not even worrying about putting on any underwear. After his lower body was covered, he lifted Blaine's shirt off over his head, and threw it at the curly-haired boy.

Blaine responded, by shooting up to where his torso was visible. And boy was it visible. Kurt's gaze shifted to Blaine's perfectly sculpted body as he continued to get out of bed, exposing his nude body. Blaine didn't realize what he was doing until he looked down to see Blaine Jr., and covered up with his shirt.

"Blaine..."

"Kurt," Blaine's groggy morning voice sent chills down Kurt's spine. "We didn't...?"

"I think we did." Kurt softly replied, handing Blaine the other pair of jeans in the pile of clothing.

Blaine turned so his back was facing Kurt. He slipped on the faded jeans that ended just above his ankles, then turned back around. "We couldn't have." He tried clearing his throat, but his voice came out the same, "I'm not—I mean, I don't like boys."

"Of course you don't."

"It's freezing," Blaine avoided the subject, "And why is this room spinning?" He took a seat on the bed, which was senseless because he sprang right back up, whispering a scream.

"What's the matter?" Kurt asked.

"My... my bottom." Blaine patted himself on the butt, checking where the pain resided. "It hurts."

Kurt couldn't help but muster a soft chuckle.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Seriously, Kurt."

"Well, first off," Kurt spoke in an over-analytical way, "just a couple of minutes ago, we were naked. In a bed. Together."

"Your point?"

"I'm not finished," Kurt threw his own shirt on, sitting back down on the bed. "And secondly, your back end hurts, while mine doesn't. Put the pieces together, Blaine."

It took a few moments for the lightbulb to flicker in Blaine's mind. He didn't know whether to be repulsed by the idea of having sex with Kurt, or flattered. In his mind, Kurt always seemed like the kind of person that would need to be wooed before he even took his shirt off in front of another person. Blaine paced around the room, which made his headache worse.

"Calm down, you're going to wake everyone up." Kurt urged.

"Calm?" Blaine shouted, "How the hell am I supposed to stay calm when I just woke up next to you?"

"Ouch."

"Don't make a joke out of this, Kurt. Don't." Blaine's tone bore a seriousness that scared Kurt. "You don't know what's going through my mind right now. I can't be—this isn't me! I don't do hookups. And much less, I don't hookup with other guys!"

"Blaine, seriously, calm down. You're turning red." Kurt stood, placing both hands onto Blaine's shoulders to which he shook off.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled, "I'm not a-"

"A what?" Kurt was now heated as well.

"Don't make me say it, Kurt. You know."

"Well obviously I don't, so please enlighten me."

"I'm not a fag!"

Kurt's world dropped. Those words, or rather, that _one _word hit him like a freight train. He'd never expected Blaine to be the kind to use that term. Ever. It didn't seem like him at all. How could someone so perfect. Someone so interested in the same things he was interested in still somehow be such a stereotypical homophobic straight boy? He stood there, breathless and frozen. Only his eyes moved, following Blaine's exit from the room.

"Kurt?" his eyes met Finn's in the doorway.

"..."

"Kurt, what's wrong? Did Blaine do something?"

He nodded, falling back down on the bed. Finn sat close to him, trying to be comforting. "Would you tell me what's going on? Why was Blaine in here, and why is my bed all messed up, and..." His voice trailed off as he finally got was was going on. "You two didn't..."

"Yep." Kurt said, almost completely silenced by the tears streaming down his face.

"In my bed?"

"Yep."

"Wow..." Finn's eyes widened.

"Yeah." Kurt wiped the tears from his face. He looked to Finn, and met surprisingly sympathetic eyes.

"And what about Crescendo?"

Kurt's heart dropped. How could he have forgotten about his _boyfriend?_ "I... I haven't gotten that far yet." He glanced around at the mess made of Finn's room. "Sorry about your room, we—"

"I don't care about my stupid room." Finn grabbed Kurt, bringing him into a hug. "I mean, I do, but what matters more is that you're okay."

"Thank you." Kurt said, sighing into the warm chest of his stepbrother.

* * *

"So was that party Ke$ha amazing, or Lohan amazing?" Brittany spoke as she brushed her hair back in front of Kurt's bedroom mirror. In the reflection, she noticed Falsetto getting out of bed with Santana following closely behind.

"Definitely Ke$ha amazing." Falsetto said, getting closer to Brittany to look at her reflection. "I mean just look at me!" She pointed out the things abnormal about her appearance, "My mascara is all over my face, there's glitter in my hair, and there's—eww, is that vomit?"

Santana chuckled behind the two girls in the mirror. "You'd better expect vomit, being that it was Ke$ha amazing."

"That's crazy," Falsetto spoke once more, "I don't even remember that!" She pulled her thick black hair back into a ponytail, then sat down on the bed next to Santana.

"Well of course you don't," Santana said, "You were out like a light by the time Britts and I got in here. Then you started snoring up a storm while I was trying to gets my mack on."

"Totally," Brittany agreed. She finished her hair, and turned in her chair to face the two other girls. "I kept getting turned off by how loud you were, which got Santana angry."

"You girls are crazy, I don't snore." Falsetto stood up from Kurt's bed, making her way toward the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going down to see if there's anymore drinks left." she exited the room, headed downstairs for the kitchen.

"I think something's wrong with her." Brittany walked over to Santana, resting her head on the Latina's shoulder.

"Something's wrong with her? What do you mean?"

"Last night, she downed an entire bottle of Bacardi in less than a half hour. Don't you think that's a little too much?"

"Wow," Santana was taken back, "You're just thinking too much. Falsetto just knows how to party."

Brittany sighed, "I guess you're right."

"When am I not?" Santana smirked, looking down into Brittany's perfect eyes. "Now, let's say we finish what we started lest night?"

Brittany smiled, and without hesitation, she went up to meet Santana's lips for a kiss. They fell backwards onto Kurt's bed, and Brittany soon realized she fixed up her hair for no reason.

* * *

"Oh my God, Puckerman!" Rachel shouted, springing up off the grass she rested on over the night. She held the picnic blanket close to her body, making sure nothing was exposed. She stared at Puck as he slowly got up from his side of the backyard's grassy area.

He rubbed his eyes. They soon became clear enough for him to see what was going on. "You're really loud." He whispered.

Rachel shot a death glare at the football player. He didn't say anything else to her. He just ignored her presence, going on stretching and yawning as if he were alone. Only when he noticed the picnic blanket Rachel wrapped herself with did he break the silence, "Whoa, are you naked?"

"I don't think that's any of your business!" She snapped.

"You are!" Puck laughed a bit, trying to get close and pull off the blanket. But Rachel was in a state where an ant would set her off if it got close enough, so he backed away. "Wait a second, did we-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" Rachel shouted, pointing a condescending finger at the boy.

"I'm just trying to make sense of this situation. Everything's a little fuzzy." Puck said, having a more sensible tone. "Do you remember anything?"

"Don't play your mind games with me!" Rachel shouted, getting closer to Puck. "What do you want me to say? That I remember sleeping with you, and it was the best experience of my life?"

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to say so..."

Rachel stood silent. So many different ranges of anger boiled up inside of her. Without much thought or hesitation, she raised her hand, and threw it across Puck's face. He almost fell over due to the hangover induced headache.

"Jeez, would you lighten up?" He said, placing a hand over his cheek.

"Lighten up? You expect me to—Noah, this might all dandy for you, but it's absolutely _not_ okay for me! My entire future is riding on the choices I make every single day, and this can't be the kind of thing that I participate in!"

"Participate in? Really? Would you listen to yourself, Rachel?" Puck's voice grew with the same anger Rachel's had emitted. "You're so dull! You live what you call your life every single day worried that stepping on gum will tarnish your future. Here's a newsflash, it won't!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about! I've had a rough year, okay?"

"A rough year? Why is that? Because you didn't get a stupid solo? Or is it because your DVD's of your stupid little Streisand musicals stopped working? Please, I'd love to know what puny little thing has made your life such a living hell!"

"I..."

"What's that?" Puck asked sarcastically. "You need to go practice a solo for Sectionals?"

"Go to hell." Rachel spoke through her teeth. She fiercely turned on Puck, heading for the sliding door to go back into the house.

"You know at some point in your life, you're going to have to stop being such a baby!" Puck shouted. Those words stopped Rachel in her tracks momentarily. She so desperately wanted to say something back, but she didn't. She swallowed whatever dignity she had left, and walked inside.

In the house, the first thing she noticed was a shirt. If it was hers, she didn't know. Either way, she put in on, and ditched the picnic blanket. She passed by the kitchen, where she noticed Falsetto rummaging through the refrigerator looking for something to eat. Or possibly another drink. She avoided confrontation by quickly walking toward the staircase, where she inadvertently met Kurt.

"Rachel?" He said, "What's wrong?"

She looked up too see his bright red cheeks, "I could ask you the same."

"Boy problems..." He vaguely said, thinking that the mentioning of Blaine's name would throw her into a frenzy.

"Same." she quickly blinked, then remembered where she was headed. "Excuse me, I've got to get to the bathroom. My mouth tastes horrible."

"Sure." Kurt took a step to the side, making room for her to pass. As she did so, he looked down at her stomach, which was awfully flat for a girl that's supposed to be with child. He pieced it together with the fact that she's obviously been drinking, and it came down to one thing. One thing that Kurt never imagined her doing in a million years. _Rachel didn't do it... she wouldn't do that._ He thought to himself, trying to make sense of the senseless.

"Rachel," he quietly said.

"Yeah?" She questioned from the top of the staircase.

"What happened to your baby?"


	11. I Wish

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_I Wish_

* * *

The following Monday morning arrived quicker than expected. The rest of the weekend was spent mostly recovering from Kurt's alcohol-abundant party Friday night. None of the New Directions had expected to drink so much, nor did they expect to still feel the effects of it two days later.

Kurt had been unbuttoning his gray fall jacket at his locker, preparing himself for the school day, when Blaine appeared before him.

"Kurt," Blaine began, "Good morning"

"Hi, Blaine." Kurt replied, trying not to be to attentive.

"So how are you? I mean, how's your morning going? How was your weekend?"

"Whoa!" Kurt shut his locker, taking a step from Blaine. "What's with the attack of questions? Have you been drinking coffee all night?"

"Yeah—no. I mean, yeah, actually. I have." Blaine scratched the back of his head, which Kurt now noticed wasn't gelled. Blaine's hair was actually quite sexy when it was all rough like that.

"That can't be healthy." Kurt muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, well anyway, I really wanted to talk to you... about the party."

Kurt rolled his eyes at the shorter boy. He slammed his locker shut, and began to walk away. What Blaine had called him at the party was damn near unforgivable in his mind. Kurt wanted to forgive Blaine, he really did. He could see that there was some kind of nice and sincere teenager inside of him. After all, those times they discussed Broadway and Disney music weren't fake. Kurt knew deep down that Blaine had absolutely nothing against the gay community. But he also didn't want to let his heart get in the way of his decisions.

"Kurt, wait!" Blaine followed.

"I've got nothing to say to you, Blaine." Kurt replied, his voice deep with anger. He made a sharp turn, heading up a set of stairs. Blaine was close behind, hastening his step so he didn't have to shout in order for Kurt to hear him.

"Just listen!" Blaine called out, "I really, really want to apologize!"

Kurt didn't stop. He strutted his way past the History classrooms in the west wing of the school. He didn't make anymore turns, so he was head straight for the staircase opposite of the one he walked up. This act of defiance let Blaine know that Kurt wasn't headed to any specific destination. He just wanted to escape from Blaine. Or be dramatic. Or both.

"Go ahead." Kurt said, "Public apologies tend to be the most sincere, so why not tell the whole school how you really feel, Blaine?"

At the sound of those words, Blaine stopped in his tracks. He shot quick glances at each and every one of the students passing him by. It was now or never. The moment that would either make or break his senior year. He now knew _exactly_ what Kurt had been going through by confidently walking down these halls in those tight designer jeans every single day.

He swallowed his pride, and glanced around him once more. So many people. Before Kurt could reach the staircase, Blaine shouted, "I'm Blaine Anderson," those words halted the movement of one Kurt Hummel. He could practically hear the heartbreak in Blaine's voice, "And I'm in love with Kurt Hummel!"

_What. The. Fuck._ Kurt thought to himself. He whipped his head around, immediately targeting Blaine with those daggers he called eyes. Such an array of emotions including anger, confusion, and lust pumped through his veins. Without much thought, he marched down the hall in Blaine's direction.

Blaine saw the redness of Kurt's face, and took it as a sign of anger. _Just _anger. So he did the only thing he could think of. He ran. He ran back down the stairs he followed Kurt to. He ran down the hall and passed Kurt's locker. He made the sharp turn near Mr. Schue's Spanish classroom, and now made a beeline to the auditorium. Blaine burst through the double doors, down the aisle, and hopped up on the stage.

Kurt was close behind.

"Blaine, what the _hell_ was that?" He shouted, marching down the aisle headed for the stage.

"Just listen, Kurt." Blaine sighed. "Listen."

Blaine looked to his side, and made a gesture. A signal. A signal telling the band members that he needed their assistance. _A song?_ Kurt thought, _Why the hell would he be singing to me? I could rip his throat out._

Blaine walked up to the mic stand that was so cleverly placed centerstage. He tapped it a couple times to make sure it was on. And so it was.

Kurt awaited in the first row of seats, watching angrily in anticipation. He wanted Blaine to finish this little act already so he could proceed with the throat-ripping.

"Listen." Blaine repeated into the microphone. He tapped the floor with his foot a few times, and the band members began to play. The tune was unfamiliar to Kurt, but it definitely intrigued him.

"_Circles, we're going in circles  
Dizzy's all it makes us  
We know where it takes us  
We've been before  
Closer, maybe looking closer  
There's more to discover  
Find out what went wrong without blaming each other..."_

This song seemed to suppress Kurt's anger for the moment, but who knew how long that would last? He stilled had some pent up feelings about the morning after his party.

"_...Think that we got more time  
When we're falling behind  
Gotta make up our minds _

_Or else we'll play, play, play all the same old games  
And we wait, wait, wait for the end to change  
And we take, take, take it for granted that we'll be the same  
But we're making all the same mistakes..."_

_Same mistakes?_ Kurt thought to himself, _You made the mistake, Blaine, not me._

"_...Wake up, we both need to wake up  
Maybe if we face up to this  
We can make it through this  
Closer, maybe we'll be closer  
Stronger than we were before, yeah  
Make this something more, yeah..."_

Kurt's eyes met Blaine's for just a moment. And in that moment, the realization that it wasn't just Blaine had hit him. It _was_ a mistake on his part as well. That alcohol. The party. The cheating. The _Blaine_ of it all. It wasn't right.

"_...Yeah, yeah, that's what crazy is  
When it's broken, you say there's nothing to fix  
And you pray, pray, pray that everything will be okay  
While you're making all the same mistakes_

_Don't look back  
But if we don't look back  
We're only learning then  
How to make all the same mis—same mistakes again..."_

* * *

_Later that day..._

Falsetto pranced down the dim-lit halls of McKinley, her dark locks of hair flowing behind her. He tan skin never looked more vibrant, and even her outfit had a bright feel to it. She was obviously having a good day.

She made her way by her friends, Brittany and Santana, and immediately locked arms with the two. She spun them in circles, laughing with Brittany, but meeting a serious gaze from Santana.

"What the _hell_?" Santana's infamous _bitch glare_ was burning holes in Falsetto's skin.

"Well, good morning to you, too!" Falsetto said with an awful lot of happiness in her tone.

"What, did someone spike your coffee this morning?" Santana bitterly replied.

"Yeah," Brittany agreed, quickly bouncing back to Santana's side. "You're usually bitchy on Monday's."

"Well." Falsetto tried fighting a smile, but it just couldn't be helped. "I resent that. Today is a beautiful day, don'tcha think?"

"It's raining." Santana replied with the same bitterness as before.

"Let's go dance in it!" Falsetto grabbed Santana's and Brittany's hands again, this time leading them to the front doors of the school. She was surprisingly strong for her small frame. She had almost gotten out of the school with the two Cheerios, but Santana stopped her. She angrily tried dragging Britts back with her, heading to their original destination that was their Human Biology class.

"Come on, girls!" Falsetto shouted to her two departing friends, "Life's a party, let's live in it!"

Brittany stopped in Santana's grasp. Santana could do nothing but look at her girlfriend with stunned eyes, "Britts, what are you doing?" She scolded. But it was to no avail. Brittany walked over to Falsetto's side.

"She's right, San." Brittany began, "I'm probably gonna fail that class anyway, to be honest." She then turned to Falsetto and said, "So what did you have in mind?"

A smile stretched from ear to ear on Falsetto's face once Brittany took her side. "Oh, nothing." She then looked at Santana, making an obvious target. "Just some fun." She smiled.

"Ay dios." Santana sighed. She could just smell the musical number coming on.

"_It feels like we've been livin' in fast forward  
Another moment passing by  
(Up up up all night)  
The party's ending but it's now or never  
Nobody's going home tonight  
(Up up up all night)..."_

Falsetto began singing. Naturally, Brittany sang back up. The two pranced around Santana, forcing her to join them in this seemingly spontaneous burst of energy. So she began,

"_...Katy Perry's on replay  
She's on replay  
DJ got the floor to shake, the floor to shake  
People going all the way  
Yeah, all the way  
I'm still wide awake..."_

_What the hell am I even doing? _Santana thought once she finished her part. Before she knew it, she was strutting down the halls, singing along with Falsetto and Brittany. Could this have been how Falsetto saw everything? Was life just a constantly running party in her eyes?

The three girls sang together, eventually making their way into the cafeteria. Some of the Cheerios that were present joined in on the song. They added to the party vibe by dancing on the tables, completely disregarding everyone's meal.

"_...I wanna stay up all night  
And jump around until we see the sun  
I wanna stay up all night  
And find a girl and tell her she's the one  
Hold on to the feeling  
And don't let it go  
'Cause we got the floor now  
Get out of control  
I wanna stay up all night  
And do it all with you  
Up, up, up all night  
Like this, all night, hey  
Up all night  
Like this, all night, hey  
Up all night..."_

Falsetto, Santana, Brittany, and the Cheerios danced and strutted and jumped around all over the cafeteria. This musical number had been in no way organized by the glee club, and this led to an upset expression on Rachel's face—who had been present in the cafeteria as well.

Falsetto continued to sing,

"_...Don't even care about the table breaking  
We only wanna have a laugh  
(Up up up all night)  
I'm only thinking 'bout this guy I'm seeing  
I hope he'll wanna kiss me back..."_

Just as Falsetto was getting used to this party mood, a fire alarm sounded in the cafeteria. Obviously a narc had done the deed. She, along with the entire Cheerios team, immediately ceased their singing and dancing. Everyone else in the cafeteria rushed out, thinking the fire had been real.

"Bummer." Brittany said, hopping off of one the tables. She joined Santana and Falsetto near the cafeteria's double doors.

"Yeah, and I was just getting into it." Santana said, "I guess there's just no way to avoid that Human Bio test. Come on, Britts."

Brittany followed Santana out of the cafeteria. The other Cheerios soon filed out as well, leaving just Falsetto. She stood there, in her own little world smiling to herself.

* * *

"Quinn, I'm telling you, I just _felt _something!" Artie exclaimed.

It was now the end of the week, which meant date night for most couples. Artie and Quinn had spent a lot of time together since they became a couple over the summer. Quinn had decided to take up skateboarding as a new hobby on a boring Tuesday evening. She had troubles, of course, but she didn't give up. After a week of falling, scraping her knees, and being on the edge of quitting, she was reintroduced to Artie.

And not he geeky Artie she was familiar with in school. This was a different, more confident Artie. At the skate park, he fit in. More than a few kids in the same situation as him populated the skate park. Quinn thought it'd be dangerous for them at first, but the way they made her eat her words made her think otherwise.

After a few mentoring sessions with Artie, Quinn quickly got the hang of skateboarding. Who knew a kid in a _wheelchair_ could teach someone how to skate? Oranges and apples, right? Well, not so much it seemed.

Those mentoring sessions soon became dates, and those dates became sleepovers, and well, the rest is history.

"I'm sorry?" Quinn questioned her obviously delusional boyfriend at their usual dinner table in Breadstix.

"I—I don't know how to explain it, but my leg—I felt it move, I think." Artie paused. "A twitch maybe."

"That's crazy." Quinn disregarded her boyfriend's feelings and continued to eat her salad.

"Is it?" Artie began, "Doctors are never one hundred percent sure of anything they do. There's always a chance of something. No matter how slight, there's a chance."

Quinn chuckled to herself, "So you're telling me that, let's say a one in a billion chance, you can somehow walk again?"

"I'm glad you're finding amusement in this." Artie's tone became more serious.

"I'm sorry, I just..." Quinn sighed, putting her fork down. She grabbed her boyfriend's hand over the table. "I don't think it's possible."

"And why's that?" Artie asked in disbelief.

"Because since I've held your hand, I've also been trying to play footsies with you." Quinn paused, letting Artie take it all in. Then she began again. "And you haven't had a reaction."

Artie pulled his hand away from Quinn's. He looked down at his plate and took a breath. "Ever since I was a kid, all I ever wanted to do was become a dancer. Then," he patted his chair, "this happened. I know what the doctors said, and I relived the night of my accident every night of my life since. It always plays back in my mind, and I can never get it out unless I fall asleep. Do you want to know what I dream of, Quinn?"

An already teary-eyed Quinn asked, "What's that?"

"Slow dancing." he simply said. "Slow dancing at prom on two working legs. Now, I know that still might be just a dream, but I know what I felt. Just a few moments ago, when I dug into my pocket for my wallet, I felt a sensation. I'm not going crazy, I assure you. But if this is a chance that I can walk again, I have to believe in it. And I need you to do the same."

Quinn's heart skipped a beat. The drive that Artie had was stronger than any able-bodied person she had ever met. Probably even stronger than Rachel's drive for Broadway. It was a truly inspiring tale, and it left a hand print on her heart. "I believe in it." She silently said. "I believe in you."

* * *

"I get off in twenty minutes, are you sure you don't want to hang out?" Blaine was suited in his working attire. An apron. A tray. And a name pin. It was a dull night at the karaoke club—which Brittany so cleverly dubbed _The Klub_. No one had objected when she coined the name. They all thought it was just clever and just corny enough to work with the New Directions' 'misfit' thing.

He was waiting on none other that Kurt Hummel. The apple of his eye.

"Blaine," Kurt began. "I just came for a coffee while I wait for Crescendo. My _boyfriend."_ he said with emphasis.

"I know, and I really just want at least ten minutes of your time."

"I may have uncharacteristically forgiven you after you sang me that song," Kurt stood from his table, coffee in hand, and continued, "But that doesn't mean I'm ready to run off and adopt a bunch of babies with you, okay?" he made a path for the door. Before he opened it, he turned back to Blaine. "And Rachel told me about what she did over the summer. I don't truly believe in the mutilation of an unborn child, but you, as a _father_, needed to support her in whatever she decided to do with her body."

With that said, Kurt walked to the front door of The Klub. Blaine watched from inside as he saw Crescendo appear before him. It hurt to see the two embrace in a hug. In a _kiss._

And so he did the only thing he knew how to do. He sang. On the stage that made The Klub what it was, he approached the microphone completely unannounced.

"_He takes your hand  
I die a little  
I watch your eyes  
And I'm in riddles  
Why can't you look at me like that?_

_When you walk by  
I try to say it  
But then I freeze  
And never do it  
My tongue gets tied  
The words get trapped..."_

The attention of the few people enjoying their coffee and snacks quickly shot to Blaine. The entire time he sang his heart out, he was staring at Kurt and Crescendo having small talk just outside the windows of The Klub.

"_...I hear the beat of my heart getting louder  
Whenever I'm near you  
But I see you with him slow dancing  
Tearing me apart  
Cause you don't see  
Whenever you kiss him  
I'm breaking,  
Oh how I wish that was me..."_

Once he sang that first chorus, he could see Kurt and Crescendo walking down the street. It was a quick, and almost unnoticeable glance, but Blaine's eyes briefly met Kurt's before they went back to Crescendo's.

"_...Oh how I wish, that was me..."_

* * *

A/N:: that whole Falsetto bit might seem random and unnecessary for now, but it's just setting up for her whole arc. I apologize beforehand if I seem to be getting all over the place ._.


	12. Deleted Scene

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Deleted Scene_

* * *

"I don't know, Artie," the red-headed guidance councilor of McKinley said, "Stem cells seems kind of risky, don't you think?"

It was a Thursday morning, and Artie had spilled the beans about the sensation that he swore he felt when we was with Quinn at Breadstix just a week earlier. It wasn't something he had planned on telling in the first place, but he knew that someone else had to know. But now that he could see the pessimism—or realism as she called it—in Ms. Pillsbury's eyes, he regretted ever coming to her for advice.

"It's the only way, I'm sure." Artie said, "I've been through every kind of physical therapy in the book, and none worked."

"And you think stem cells will?" Ms. Pillsbury reached into the bottom drawer of her desk, and pulled out a brochure entitled, _No legs? No problem!, _and handed it to Artie. "This brochure has some other alternatives that I personally think are better than getting stem cells."

"Ms. Pillsbury, I appreciate your kindness," Artie sighed, taking a quick glance through the brochure, then handing it back to the councilor, "But I know what I want—what I need."

"Artie," She sighed, "Are you sure? Are your parents even-"

"Ms. Pillsbury!" Artie interrupted the rambling teacher with a forcefulness he hadn't intended to bring out. "I'm positive, and so are my parents. I don't see why you're so worked up. I came to confide in you, not be judged. And what can possibly go wrong? I have nothing left to lose."

Ms. Pillsbury stood silent for a moment. It took her a minute or so to process the seriousness in Artie's eyes. She took the brochure she had originally tried to hand him, and put it back in the bottom drawer of her desk. She dawned a half-fake smile, then proceeded to say, "And how does Quinn feel about this change?"

Artie didn't say anything. Mostly because the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, but also because he hadn't even confronted Quinn about the news yet. He knew she'd be the most stubborn of all the people that he'd tell before he left.

So later that day, during a glee meeting at _The Klub_, Artie decided to kill two birds with one stone. He wanted to break the news to the members of the New Directions, and Quinn at the same time. Maybe having more people present would cushion the blow he was sure to receive from his girlfriend.

Mr. Schue began the meeting by announcing their competition at their upcoming Sectionals competition. He said they'd be singing against Blaine's old group, the Dalton Academy Warblers, and one of their rivals for the past 2 years, Aural Intensity. These news didn't seem so scary at first, but once it settled in the glee members' minds, they knew they'd be in big trouble. Both of the rivaling teams were amazing, and had been formidable foes in the past.

Just as Mr. Schue was going to begin the auditioning process for the solo and duet positions, Artie decided to speak out.

"Mr. Schue, can I say something before we begin?"

"Sure," the curly-haired teacher answered, "Go for it."

Artie wheeled his way to the center of the room. There still hadn't been a small ramp for Artie to roll onto the stage, so he couldn't get up there without someone helping him.

He gather his thoughts, then began slowly, "I'm—I'm leaving, everyone."

"Excuse me?" Quinn didn't let a second go by before stress met her body.

"Amsterdam." He said. "I'm going to Amsterdam."

"What's in Amsterdam?" Tina asked.

"Marijuana, obviously." Falsetto commented, "He's finally found the amazing feeling that only weed can offer, and he wants to do it legally. Isn't that right, Stephen Hawking?"

"What?" Artie was stunned, "No, not at all!"

"Then what is it?" Quinn asked, practically forcing the answer out of him with her eyes.

"Stem cells."

"Why do you need stem cells?" Brittany asked, "Are you like, an undercover flower or something? Because if you are, then I'm sorry that Lord Tubbington pees on your relatives every morning." Everyone just shot her a stare as to say 'are you serious?'

"Stem cells are used to fix damaged cells, Britts." Santana added.

"So did someone step on his roots, or...?"

"It means he'll walk again, Brittany." Quinn snapped, growing impatient with her fellow Cheerio.

"So like magic? As in a wizard?" Brittany's mind was jumbled up again, "Because if there's a wizard in Amsterdam, I want to come, too. I need some magic beans or something to help Lord Tubbington quit smoking. I think he's got hookups for other drugs."

"Would you stop talking about your damn cat for five seconds!" Quinn shouted at the girl. All of her patience went completely out the door as she turned to her boyfriend, "Artie, what the hell do you mean you're getting stem cells? Do you know the risks? And what about your parents? Do they know?"

"My parents are okay with whatever decision I make." Artie's facial expression changed. He was turned away by the harsh judging tone in both her eyes and voice. "I thought this was going to be a good moment, you know? I thought you'd all be proud of me in some way. But I guess not."

With that said, Artie wheeled himself toward to door, and left _The Klub._ Everyone stayed quiet in fear of showing insensitivity toward Artie's situation, except for Falsetto, of course. She'd been in her own little world ever since Kurt's party, and didn't give a damn about anyone but herself.

"Well, it looks like we're done here." she said, grabbing her bag off the table she sat at. She stood up, and made her way to the door. "Are you coming, Santana? Megan Johnson's Halloween party isn't going to crash itself."

"Wait a minute," Mr. Schue decided to jump into the conversation, "Where are you two going? We still have Sectionals to discuss!"

"Sectionals isn't until the end of November." Falsetto said, impatience present in her voice. "Besides, it wouldn't be fair to talk about it without Artie, now would it?"

Mr. Schue stood silent.

"My point exactly." Falsetto and Santana made their exit.

"Brittany, aren't you going with them?" Tina asked the leftover girl apart of the new unholy trinity.

"I'm still so confused... is there a wizard in Amsterdam, or isn't there?"

"Yeah, Britts, a wizard." Tina gave in to the ditzy cheerleader's mind. It was the only apparent way to get her to stop talking.

"Well," Mr. Schue said once more, "Since we can't really discuss Sectionals with missing members, I guess you guys can all go home."

The glee clubbers hastily gathered their things. Mike gave Tina a ride home as usual, but he also let Quinn carpool, since she had originally been dropped of by Artie's dad. Finn drove alone, as did Brittany, who headed to the party where Santana and Falsetto were sure to be. Puck and Rachel had spent a lot more time together, prepping to be McKinley's newest power couple, so he dropped her off. Crescendo felt generous, so he drove both Kurt and Blaine home. Kurt was first to go, being that his house was closer.

When Blaine was about to exit Crescendo's car and walk into his home, he hesitated to open the passenger's door. "Can I tell you something?" he croaked.

"Sure," Crescendo said, "What is it?"

"It's about Kurt's party..." Blaine trailed off.

"Does it have anything to do with the fact that Kurt's been acting weird since then?" Crescendo was slowly putting the pieces together.

"Yeah, you can say that." Blaine avoided eye contact with the naturally tan boy sitting beside him. He stared ahead, noticing a raindrop landing on the windshield. Soon enough, there were a lot more falling from the sky, and smashing against the car. Blaine ignored the lump in his throat, managing to speak once more, "Kurt and I, we were really drunk, and..." He didn't have the courage to finish. Like the rain falling from the clouds above, tears cascaded down his face.

This was when Crescendo said, "What, did you guys kiss?" he laughed. Loudly. "You had me worried there for a second."

"..."

"A drunk kiss is fine, Blaine. Jeez, you had me thinking you two had one of those cliché drunken hookups you only see in movies." Crescendo laughed again, only adding fuels to the flames of his denial.

Blaine feigned a laugh to make himself look less suspicious, and swiftly made an exit from Crescendo's car. With that same speed, he opened the front door to his family's pseudo-mansion, and disappeared inside.

Moments later, Crescendo decided to give Kurt a call to let him know Blaine made it home safe and sound. As always, their conversation strayed into a different direction. They began to talk about places to go to be alone on Halloween. Kurt always loved the innocence of the haunted houses made by underprivileged kids in a community center, or even an elementary school. It reminded him of the innocence he had as a child. Crescendo, however, loved to go to cemeteries, and actual places that might've been haunted. He got a thrill out of watching other people being scared. Maybe this was the reason he forced Kurt to watch his entire Rob Zombie collection over the summer.

The conversation was about to stray once more just before Crescendo said, "Oh, and I know about the party. Blaine confessed."

"He—he what?" Kurt shot up from his relaxed position on his bed, gripping his phone to his ear.

"Don't panic, Kurt, I'm fine with it."

"I didn't even know what I was doing, we had too much to drink and—you what?"

"I'm fine with it." Crescendo laughed at the sound of distress in Kurt's voice over the phone. "After all, a kiss is just a kiss, right?"

Kurt's facial expression went completely blank. What exactly had Blaine told him? "A kiss... right."


	13. Sleazy

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Sleazy_

* * *

"Now this is how you crash a party, ladies!" Falsetto walked—no, not walked, _strutted—_into the party scene with Brittany and Santana on her sides. The lights were dim just how she liked, and the boys were plentiful. The first thing on her mind was to get a few drinks for her and her girls. So she did. She left Brittany and Santana dancing on the dance floor to get their first cups. At the bar area, she used her 'feminine charm' to get the bartender, who introduced himself as Tony, to give her the first round of drinks for free.

It was a good thing that the hostess of this party was 21, and still in High School. This way, everyone assumed Falsetto, Brittany, and Santana were all of age. They were able to get drinks without even having to be asked for an ID.

"So what brings you here, ma'am?" The much older bartender Tony questioned Falsetto as he handed her a tray of three glasses with pink liquid in each of them.

"Setto," she introduced herself, "Call me Setto."

"What a pretty name." Tony commented, squinting his eyes and raising one of those bushy eyebrows. The speakers behind him blasted house music, so he had to lean in closer for her to hear, "Are you alone?"

Falsetto laughed to herself. She took a glass from the tray, and the pink liquid rushed down her throat in an instant. She smiled up at Tony, "I'm with my girls, big boy."

"Is that so?" He dawned a shady smile, getting even closer to Falsetto to whisper, "I've got a room upstairs if you and your girls, uh... wanna y'know.."

"Really?" She chuckled, letting the older man know that he had absolutely no chance of hooking up with her or her friends. "I don't think I'm your girl, mister."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." she made her exit. Still with her signature strut, she got back to Britts and Santana with their drinks.

"It's about time!" Santana tried shouting over the music. She grabbed her drink, and drank it like it was water straight from the fountain of youth. "What is this?"

"I don't even know!" Falsetto laughed, as did the other two.

"It tastes like happy!" Brittany danced around her two friends, enjoying the feeling of the bass pounding against her chest.

"I don't think we were quite finished back there, Setto!" Tony, the shady bartender crept up behind the dark-haired girl. She flinched, then turned to face him.

"I think I was pretty clear when I turned you down!" She shouted over the music, backing away from the man.

"Leave her alone you grease monkey!" Santana came to her girl's aid. Not that she needed it, but they had to stick together.

Just then, the DJ switched the song playing, and one of Falsetto's favorite tunes were now beating against her chest alongside her heart. She moved some hair away from her face, put both arms around the two cheerleaders, and began rapping with the song,

"_...You can't imagine the immensity of the fuck I'm not giving  
About your money and man servant and the mansion you live in  
And I don't wanna go places where all my ladies can't get in  
Just grab a bottle, some boys and let's take it back to my basement  
And get Sleazy  
Sick of all your lines, so cheesy!  
Sorry daddy, but I'm not that easy!  
I'm not gonna sit here while you circle jerk it and work it  
Ima take it back to where my man and my girls is..."_

All eyes in the room turned to her as she danced circles around the bartender along with Brittany and Santana. He couldn't do anything but stand there with his mouth open like a sad puppy. Brittany then followed with the chorus,

"_...I don't need you or your brand new Benz  
Or your bougie friends  
And I don't need love, looking like diamonds  
Looking like diamonds  
I don't need you or your brand new Benz  
Or your bougie friends  
And I don't need love, looking like diamonds  
Looking like diamonds..."_

The bartender found an opening, and retreated back behind the bar where he belonged. But that didn't stop the girls from embarrassing him. They followed him, and hopped up onto the bar, and began dancing like no one was watching. Santana picked up the next verse of the Ke$ha song blasting in the background,

"_...I don't mean to critique on your seduction technique  
But your money's not impressing me, it's kinda weak  
That you really think you're gonna get my rocks off  
Get my top and socks off  
By showing me the dollars in your drop box  
Me and all my friends we don't buy bottles, we bring em  
We take the drinks from the tables when you get up and leave em  
And I don't care if you stare and you call us scummy  
Cause we ain't after your affection  
And sure as hell not your money, honey..."_

The song soon died out, and Tony vanished somewhere within the crowd of people. The trio hopped off the bar, and hugged one another tightly. They all shared laughs at the fact they had made a grown man into a fool by embarrassing him in front of a great number of people. People who applauded and cheered them on after the bartender fled.

"That was great, girls!" Falsetto shouted.

"Totally," Brittany said, "Like unicorns on crack!"

* * *

"Horror movie marathon at my house?" Puck eagerly spoke into his cell phone. He was sprawled out on his living room couch, watching Saturday morning cartoons. It was the one thing that reminded him he was still, in a way, just a kid. Clad in nothing but briefs, he scratched at his stomach, awaiting an answer from the person on the other line.

"I don't know," on the other end was a very nervous Rachel Berry. She was sitting on her bad with her knees bent, close to her face and biting a nail. This kind of conversation was never supposed to be happening, especially not with Puck. Never in a million years did she think a drunken hook up might turn into something more.

"Come on, Berry, loosen up a bit!" Puck chuckled, "It's always about Broadway, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is!" she scolded at the mockery Puck had made of her dream. Her _future_.

"Whoa there, Yentl, I didn't mean to strike a nerve." Puck continued, "I'm simply saying that I haven't gotten any business lately, and I know that since you're single now, you're fair game."

"Fair game?" Rachel stood from her bed, and pointed a finger at an imaginary Puckerman in her bedroom, "I'm not some toy, Noah! I'm an actual girl with actual feelings. Don't you dare treat me like I'm some doll you can just toy around with!"

Puck stood silent.

"Hello?"

"Oh, are you done?" He laughed again, "I'm just saying that you could use some relieving of your tension, and so could I. It's a win-win."

"I don't see how I'd win." Rachel smiled at herself in her bedroom mirror. The comeback seemed to come so naturally, and she was proud of herself. Even if it was just a small thing.

"Ha-ha. Very funny." Puck spoke with sarcasm. "It's not like we've never hooked up before, remember Sophomore year? You wanted to make Finn jealous, and you used me. This is the same concept."

Rachel stood silent this time. In her mind, a battle between moral and immoral was going on. She knew Puck would stay true to his word of having no feelings involved, and for this to be 'just another hook up' since he pretty much was incapable of caring about anyone other than himself. She ignored what dignity she had left, and her smile broke. It not only broke, but it grew into a grin, a lustful one. Her eyes squinted, and she could see a new Rachel coming from within.

"No strings?" she said.

"No strings."

She took another moment to reconsider. It was now or never. Either she'd enjoy being young for the moment, or mentally grow up for a dream that would take months, years even, yo accomplish.

"I'm in." she replied.

* * *

"Did she say anything else?" Kurt questioned with a worried tone over Saturday brunch at Breadstix with Crescendo. This had become a usual thing since they began dating in July. Fridays were date nights, Saturdays were for brunch, and hanging out. And Sunday was spent well... doing something _else_.

"Just that she can't find my sister." Crescendo responded with a hint of fear in his tone. "I don't know what to think, Kurt."

"Maybe she's just playing a prank? Falsetto always seemed like the type." Kurt tried his hand at seeing the glass as half-full.

"No," Crescendo said, "She isn't the one to play a prank, at least not like this, anyway. And especially not with her track record."

"Track record?" Kurt wondered, "What do you mean?"

"Its nothing, nevermind." Crescendo dismissed, clearing his throat. "Let's go meet Santana. I'm already worried."

"And where would that be?" Kurt placed some money on the table for the waitress to collect, then followed Crescendo out of the door.

"To Dead Man's Camping Ground." Crescendo grinned, knowing that just the name would send a shiver down Kurt's spine.

"I—I'm sorry?"

"Relax," Crescendo said, opening his car door. "One, it's day time, which means no spirits or ghosts or anything. And two, you have me to protect you. There's nothing to be afraid of!"

"Well you know how these urban legends go." Kurt strapped himself in with the seat-belt. "There's always the defenseless damsel in distress, AKA moi, lured to some ancient ritual ground to be slaughtered on an alter for some demon."

"Wow." Crescendo's eyes widened. "Maybe I've been showing you too much horror movies."

"Ya think?"

As they drove off, Kurt couldn't help but think about what Crescendo could've meant about his sister's track record. He said it in a disappointing tone, so Kurt's initial thought was that she was some sort of murderer. He soon shook that thought from his mind on account of Falsetto looking too frail to even shoot a gun. Then, his mind jumped to the idea of the two being part of an occult, and this was just a trap to sacrifice him to raise Lucifer to lay waste on all of humankind. _Too many scary movies,_ he thought to himself.

"We're here." Crescendo pulled over in a decaying parking lot just outside of the campground. "Rumor has it that years ago, this was a camp for kids to attend during the summer. They'd have all sorts of activities. Anything from Volleyball to Swimming, to Tennis—you name it."

"What happened?" Kurt asked, taking a long look at the torn fences, cracks in the ground, and missing camp sign.

"According to the rumor, a kid told his parents that the councilors were touching the kids,"

"Like-"

"Yeah, like that." Crescendo continued, "And now spirits of those camp councilors roam the campground looking for the kid who snitched, laying waste to anyone that gets in the way."

Every ounce of color flushed from Kurt's face. He shivered in his passenger seat. "You're such a jerk!" He playfully punched Crescendo in his chest. Crescendo responded by bringing him into a kiss, and Kurt submitted entirely.

Seat belts were off, and Kurt was on his boyfriend's lap, being dominant. A few lustful kisses later, and Crescendo broke apart.

"Whoa there," he said, smirking, "Don't you know that this is how all slasher films start? It's always a couple of teens having sex in the middle of nowhere."

Kurt didn't respond.

"I thought so." Crescendo said once more. "Now let's go find Santana."

"Right," Kurt fixed his shirt, climbed off of his boyfriend, then asked, "Where is she?"

"She said she's be by the lake, so let's go meet her there." Crescendo stepped out of the car, and proceeded to walk toward the entrance, only to stop a few feet later, "Kurt, are you coming?"

"Go without me," he resisted, "these shoes were _not_ made for treading to mud and God knows what."

"Seriously?" Kurt nodded. "Fine, suit yourself. When Michael Myers shows up, give me a call." he joked. Kurt giggled lightly, not really thinking of the joke as being all that funny.

Moments later, Crescendo was gone within the campground. Kurt sat in the silence of Crescendo's car, watching birds fly outside the window. He pulled out his phone, and to his surprise, he had service.

_**5 texts**_. He opened up his phone's texting application, and saw that all texts were from none other than Blaine Anderson.

_**8:32am; Good morning, sunshine :)**_

_**9:10am; Just wanted to talk, didn't mean to scare you..**_

_**9:45am; Kurt? Are you dead?**_

_**10:21am; I just wanted to talk. I feel like I need some sort of closure, or at least a proper rejection O.o**_

_**11:30am; Okay, are you ignoring me? I know it's Halloween and all, but that doesn't mean you have to go all ghost on me. Lol, get it? Ghosts? Halloween? Aren't I punny?**_

_Blaine, you're such a dork,_ Kurt thought to himself. He decided to reply to the obnoxious texts,

_**12:41pm; Dead Man's Campground. They've got me hostage. SOS!**_

He decided to have a little fun.

Just about 15 minutes later, Blaine pulled up near Crescendo's car with haste. He jumped out, and saw that Kurt was perfectly fine.

"Hi there," Kurt said, smiling at Blaine. "My own little hobbit in shining armor has come to save the day."

"Ha-ha," Blaine mocked, "Very funny. I thought you were really in trouble!"

Kurt couldn't contain his laughter, "By who? The evil children molesting camp spirits? Don't make me laugh. I might be scared of most horror movies, but that's just downright ridiculous, don'tcha think?"

Blaine scratched the back of his head, ruffling his dark curls caused by bed-head. "Yeah, I guess this town needs some new urban legends to scare the city folk."

"Funny." Kurt smiled, pushing Blaine playfully.

Blaine pushed back.

A couple more giggles and pushes later, and the two were on the soft patch of grass that had grown from under the pavement of the parking lot. They rolled around, wrestling one another to be on top. Kurt, then Blaine. Blaine then Kurt. The cycle went on for a few moments before Blaine decided to end the foreplay with a soft kiss on Kurt's neck.

"Blaine, what are you-"

"I want you so bad, Kurt." Blaine planted soft kisses on Kurt's neck, eventually reaching his perfect lips. He figured Kurt wanted it, since there was no resistance. As much as Kurt might've wanted to resist, he couldn't. Blaine was just too much for him to avoid.

"I shouldn't..." he spoke in between kisses. "Crescendo..."

* * *

"You sure about this, Rachel?" Puck asked, lying down on his bed, with Rachel sitting at the foot, "I mean, I don't want it to seem like I'm taking advantage of you. And I damn sure don't want to hear you singing about it in glee next week."

"I—I'm sure, Noah." Rachel peeled off the bathroom she had on, revealing lingerie that showed nearly everything. "I can't play the iconic and sexual roles if I have no experience, right? So let this be a test. A test of my skills as a performer."

"I'm not following..."

Rachel walked over to his stereo speakers, plugged in his phone, and shifted through songs until she found the perfect one for the occasion. "I've prepared a number for the foreplay."

"Oh dear God."

Rachel fiercely turned, staring Puck right in his eyes as she slowly got closer and closer whilst singing,

"_...If you say something is taboo,  
Well, that's the thing I want to do.  
Do it till we're black and blue,  
Let's be bad.."_

She pranced onto Puck teasing him with her body. He kissed her along her neck as she continued,

"_...Here's my whistle, make it wetter.  
Let me wear that scarlet letter.  
When I'm bad I'm even better.  
Let's be bad..."_

She got off of Puck, leaving him wanting more. She walked around his bedroom, dancing enough just to show what features she had. She never took her eyes off of his, and that added to the sexual tension Puck was feeling.

_"...Bring on the vices!  
Don't care what the price is!  
I'll add the right spices,  
When the stand-up bass slaps you in the face,  
Well, it ain't my husband I'll embrace._

_I can't see the use in waiting._  
_Your lips are intoxicating_  
_Do my hips need some translating?_  
_Let's be bad..."_

She jumped onto Puck once more before singing her final part, and finally letting their lips meet.

"_...Here's the key for my ignition,  
Hit the gas to my transmission!  
When you hear the things I'm wishing'  
You won't offer opposition!  
Let's prohibit Prohibition!  
Let's be bad!  
Some like it hot, and that ain't bad!"_

* * *

"Santana, would you mind telling me just exactly what the _hell _ you're doing out here?" Crescendo's voice was deep with anger as he approached the messy-haired Latina.

"Nice to see you, too." Santana brushed her self off as she stood from a bench that had a perfect view of the camp's lake. "I'm here because I remember your dear old sister mentioning that this place helps to get rid of her hangovers, but I've got no dice."

"What about the party? Where was the party?"

"It was in town, like I told you earlier on the phone. When I woke up this morning, I got Brittany, and we couldn't find Falsetto, so we figured she'd left. But I guess she didn't leave on her own."

"So what are you saying, Santana?" Crescendo was losing his patience, "She was _kidnapped?_"

"I hate the word just as much as you do." Santana sighed, placing a shoulder on the boy. "But we're no use to her here. We've got to get looking elsewhere."

"Okay, but tell me one last thing,"

"Okay?"

"Were there drugs at this party?" Crescendo whispered the word as if it were a sin to mention such a thing.

"I'm not sure—I don't think so. All I really remember is some sleazy bartender hitting on her. And after that, her, Britts, and I told him off. We were dancing, and drinking of course, but I don't really remember much else. All I know is that she definitely wasn't in the house when I woke up. I searched the place up and down."

"Hm..."

"What is it?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll figure it out." Crescendo looked up to the sky, noticing that hours had passed since he left Kurt alone. "The sun's going to set soon, we should go."

PAGE BREAK

"So."

"So?"

"Kurt, you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"Blaine, I-"

"I know." Blaine got up from the grassy bed they had made home, throwing his tank top back on over his head. "Crescendo. You keep saying his name like a broken record."

"Blaine," Kurt stood up as well, "I love him, and-"

"Then why are you here with me?" Blaine shouted, louder than he thought he'd be. He looked Kurt in the eyes. He could see some sort of guilt forming. That, and a hint of regret. Kurt's mind was all screwed up with thoughts of who to be with. He loved Crescendo, but Blaine was just... _Blaine_.

* * *

"Hey, who's car is that?" Santana questioned as she and Crescendo finally made it to the parking lot. She squinted her eyes, just to make sure she wasn't hallucinating from the insane amount of alcohol in her system.

"I think it's Blaine's," Crescendo responded, "I've seen it once before."

The two got the the cars, and what a sight it was. Kurt and Blaine sat on the grassy bed, cuddled against Blaine's car, watching the stars. Their shoes, shirts, and Blaine's bowtie, of course, were scattered all around them. This time, Crescendo knew there was something going on. Something more than what Blaine spoon-fed him the other night. Something _much more _than a stupid little kiss.

"Kurt, what the hell is going on?"


	14. Hello, Goodbye

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Hello, Goodbye_

* * *

Alas, it was Monday. Even after two days' worth of effort from both Santana and Crescendo, his sister had still been missing. Kurt and Blaine's hook up was only met by a wall of passive-aggressiveness from Crescendo. At the moment, he was silenced. He didn't want to confront Kurt a second time. He just felt so hurt and betrayed, that being silent was the only thing he could do. He didn't speak to Blaine either, in fear of being lied to again.

In another shocking reveal, Rachel and Puck entered the halls of McKinley together. Not only were they walking together, but they were talking—_flirting—_with one another, and even holding hands. What was even more strange with that picture was that Rachel was sporting new threads. She had ditched her Elementary School attire, and finally got something more appropriate for her age.

Her hair was vibrant, shining, even. It cascaded down from her head in dark curls. She had a light gray top, showing enough cleavage for boys to swoon, and a tight black vest to give her breasts a good boost as well. The pair of black jeans fit her perfectly, and were partly covered to just below the knee by leather boots. It seemed as though the Broadway diva had a stash of 'sexy' clothes locked away for emergencies.

"I feel like everyone is staring at us, Noah." Rachel whispered up to Puck as they walked down the halls of McKinley.

"That's because they are." He said back. And judging by the way the two were talking to one another, it was apparent that the 'no strings attached' deal was broken. But on both ends.

They arrived to Rachel's first period Geography class, and Puck kissed her goodbye. Those strings were definitely detached.

"Noah 'Puck' Puckerman!" the curly-haired school reported, Jacob Ben Israel, shouted into the football player's face, "Is it true that you and Rachel Berry are a 'thing?'"

"Depends, who's asking?" Puck spoke directly into the camera, as opposed to addressing Jacob.

"Only the entire student body!"

Still addressing the camera, Puck said, "Yeah, Rachel and I are the newest badass Jew couple at this school, so?"

"Interesting," Jacob looked down at his notepad, "And how do you feel about your former flame Lauren Zizes returning to McKinley?"

Puck's head whipped around to look at Jacob. His brow raised, and he begged, "She—what?"

"She's made her triumphant return from her extended visit at wrestling camp, and-"

"Look, Napoleon, as far as I'm concerned, things ended for us when she left last May." Puck could see the wrestling champ walking down the hall in his direction from behind Jacob. A worried and lustful expression flashed across his face, then he announced, "Excuse me, I've got some business to handle." Without looking back, Puck made a beeline to confront his ex. It was like seeing a ghost. He fell so hard for her, and she dropped him once she found something better. And that something wasn't even a person, it was just _camp_.

"Puckerman." The heavy-set girl said once Puck was face-to-face with her.

"Zizes." Puck shot back.

"So, word on the street is you and Berry became a 'thing' this weekend." She started walking, with Puck trailing closely behind.

"You just got back, how do you know that?"

"I know things." she said. Puck stood silent with fear. "So it _is_ true!" She deducted. She stopped, then turned to face Puck.

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"You see, my dear Puckerman, I wasn't done with you when I left. You were clingy, and I needed a vacation. So now that I'm back, I want whats rightfully mine. So ditch the hobbit, and get with what you really want—get with me." Lauren definitely was blunt with whatever she said, and to whomever it was. Parents, teachers, friends, etc. She had always been an honest person, even if the honesty came off threatening, or mean.

Puck stood speechless in the hall as the cause of his broken heart walked away, only for the bell to ring seconds later.

* * *

"I don't understand any of this," Brittany whispered to Santana while flipping through her textbook in their Algebra class, "I swear, I'm just going to be a stripper when we graduate."

Santana couldn't help but chuckle. But somewhere in her mind, she actually pictured Brittany twirling on a pole in nothing but leather underwear, and holding a whip that she'd use to whip her over, and over, and over, and "14X," Santana shook her thoughts, "The answer is 14X" she announced.

"Very good!" the teacher answered, then scribbled the answer on the chalkboard.

"It's not that hard, Britts." Santana turned to help her girlfriend, "Just subtract this from both sides, then divide to isolate the variable."

Brittany's face was blank. Math was like a foreign language to her. One that she'd never understand, and one that she'd never plan on understanding. Santana could've explained the problem a thousand times, but Brittany would just space out, and forget anything that was said to her.

"Yep, definitely going to be a stripper." Brittany said.

"Whatever, just copy my answers." Santana offered. Brittany accepted, taking Santana's paper and writing exactly what she wrote.

"Did you guys ever find Falsetto?" Brittany made conversation while copying the answers.

"No, we didn't, but-"

"I knew it." Brittany said.

"Excuse me?"

"I knew it—I knew something was off about her." Brittany stopped for a moment to look Santana in the eye, "Remember at Kurt's house? She was still drinking even after the party was over."

"So? The girl knows how to give a good time."

"And just last week, she was acting differently. She was all sunshine and unicorns. And unicorns are my thing, you know this." Brittany paused. "And at the Halloween party, she stayed even after we left. Who knows what she did?"

"Okay, when did you turn into Sherlock Holmes?" Santana made a joke of Brittany's deductions.

"I know everyone thinks I'm some kind of idiot, but I'm not that stupid." She went back to copying the answers, "I just have a hard time pronouncing big words to explain myself."

Santana laughed at how quickly she snapped back to the ditzy Brittany that she fell in love with, "So what are you trying to say?"

"I think Falsetto's a junkie."

"A junkie?" Santana said aloud, almost loud enough for the whole room to hear. She hastily went back to whispering, getting closer to Britts so she wouldn't be as loud, "Falsetto doesn't do that kind of thing. Alcoholic, maybe. But I know for a fact that she doesn't do drugs!"

"Think about it, San." Brittany said. "All we've ever done is party with her. We don't know the real Falsetto."

Santana took Brittany's words into consideration. Then she flashed back to the moment in the forest when Crescendo mentioned drugs, and how he seemed so sure that it might've had something to do with Falsetto's disappearance. Could she have been an addict before they met? _She can't be,_ Santana thought to herself.

"So what else were you going to say?" Brittany asked, handing the paper back to Santana.

"Oh, right!" Santana grinned at the taste of the juicy gossip marinading on her tongue, "But you have to promise, you won't tell a soul!"

"Pinky promise?" Brittany held out her left pinky finger.

Santana hooked onto it with her own. Smiling at the child-like innocence that Brittany emitted, she said, "Kurt is a big fat cheater!"

"Gasp!" She said in a surprising manner, without actually doing the action, "With who?"

"Mr. Prep-School Anderson."

"Blaine?" now, she gasped.

* * *

"Finn, do you have an extra pen?" Meanwhile, in English class, Crescendo was knee-deep in notes he had no true intentions of looking back on. Ever since Saturday evening, everything seemed bleak. He was betrayed. And not just on Saturday. At Kurt's party, too. When Blaine first brought up the 'kiss,' he knew it was much more than that. He was just in denial, because Kurt seemed far too perfect to do such a thing. But now, his worst dreams were coming to life. "Mine just ran out of ink." He spoke, trying to mask the flames growing inside of him.

"Sure, dude." Finn stopped copying notes, then dug in his pocket for a pen, which he then handed to Crescendo, "Is everything alright?" He caught a sight of the troubling expression.

"Everything's fine," and everything sure as well wasn't fine.

"You sure?" Finn bothered, "I can tell when something is going on, and Kurt tells me I'm a good listener."

"It's not a problem, trust me." there he went, lying again.

"Come on, dude," Finn smiled, "I'd rather help you out before it gets too serious, than copy these Beowulf notes and think about what he did with the Troll-Wife."

"You know that part is only in the movie version, right?" Crescendo tried changing topic, "Did you even read the book?"

"Uhm..." Finn looked back down at his paper, taking Crescendo's words as a final 'leave me alone.'

It was a good thing, too, because the bell rang a few minutes later. The troubled boy couldn't wait to get out of that classroom. It was his study hall period next, and he had to ditch. He couldn't stand being around all the happy couples of the school. Once he hit the hall, he saw Mike and Tina kissing by their lockers, and was too distracting to notice the person he walked into, knocking down their books.

"Oh, sorry, I-" Crescendo stopped speaking once his eyes met the beautiful green eyes of Kurt. "I gotta go." He dropped the books he picked up once Kurt's eyes met his back. He started to walk away, but Kurt quickly collected his things, and began following.

"Cres, wait!" He shouted, speed walking toward the boy whose heart he broke. "Wait! I know I messed up, but-"

"_...Easy come, easy go  
That's just how you live, oh  
Take, take, take it all  
But you never give  
Should've known you was trouble  
From the first kiss  
Had your eyes wide open  
Why were they open?..."_

Crescendo stopped in his tracks, singing the relevant Bruno Mars song. A tear immediately made it's way down his cheek as he turned to face Kurt once more.

"_...Gave you all I had  
And you tossed it in the trash  
You tossed it in the trash, you did  
To give me all your love  
Is all I ever asked  
Cause what you don't understand  
Is..."_

He stood right in front of Kurt, not moving. His eyes stayed on Kurt's and Kurt's stayed on his. There was an insane amount of tension building up between the two. The students around them stopped and stared at the display of emotion Crescendo had brought on. There were no instruments, no background vocals, nothing. Just pure emotion.

"_...I'd catch a grenade for you  
Throw my hand on a blade for you  
I'd jump in front of a train for you  
You know I'd do anything for you  
I would go through all this pain  
Take a bullet straight through my brain  
Yes, I would die for you, baby  
But you won't do the same..."_

* * *

"Hello, Pillsbury Dough Boy." Santana intimidatingly sat in front of Kurt and Blaine during their lunch hour. "Bow-tie."

"What do you want, Santana?" Kurt asked with irritation.

"Don't you use that tone with me, you little cheat." Santana smirked, reaching over the table to grab one of Kurt's fries. "Don't forget that I was with Cres when he found you two at that old camp. Frankly, I'm disappointed in you. In _both_ of you. I mean, I know I'm a bitch 24/7, but I'd never cheat."

"So are you here just to make me feel bad?" Kurt said, "Crescendo already accomplished that earlier when he sang _Grenade_ to me in front of half of McKinley. I got the memo, and trust me, I feel really bad about it. I just don't know what to say to him to make it all better."

"How about this," Santana mocked Kurt, "_I love you, and Blaine is a prep-school boy toy that meant absolutely nothing to me and he was just another hook up. No feelings at all._"

"Hey!" Blaine put himself into the conversation.

"No offense." Santana said to him, then looked back at Kurt. "Oh, and if you even care, we found Falsetto."

Kurt's eyes widened, "Really? Where is she?"

"Cleveland, she called me from a precinct just before I came to lunch." Santana took another one of Kurt's fries. "But not that it's any of your business, you obviously care about hook ups more than you do of her." With that, she walked away.

Kurt and Blaine could do nothing but watch her cheerleading uniform's skirt sway with each step.


	15. Not Over You

once you get to the part where Crescendo is singing, go to this video:: watch?v=CKR_1vh5Jw0 .. It's a cover by Max Schneider, AKA the person I picture to play Crescendo.

Enjoy :)

* * *

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Not Over You_

* * *

"Setto, do you have any idea how worried we were?" Crescendo scolded his younger sister in the vacant parking lot of a Cleveland precinct. The sun was blocked off by clouds, and the humid scent of rainfall was present. Few people roamed the streets. Santana and Crescendo had finally gotten to the party girl, just in time to take her home before the policemen sent her somewhere else. Somewhere less kind than a simple precinct. "You could've gotten kidnapped, or killed, or-"

"Or raped." Santana chimed in from beside Crescendo.

Falsetto chuckled, walking by her two elders. She looked up at the sky and opened her mouth. She caught a few raindrops on her tongue before saying, "You guys worry too much, I'm obviously fine."

"Not when I tell mom, you won't be." Crescendo threatened. "She'll have your head and you know it!"

"Please," Falsetto whipped around, facing the two others once more. She lifted her hands in a praying gesture, begging her brother, "Please, don't tell her!"

"Yeah, Cres," Santana said, "No one likes a snitch."

"Seriously, Santana?" He questioned the cheerleader's loyalty, "Who's side are you on?"

She shrugged.

"Whatever," Crescendo grew more tense, "Setto, get in the car. You're lucky that snitching wasn't the first thing I did."

Falsetto stood quiet as she opened the passenger's side door of Crescendo's car. As did Santana. The three sat in silence for about a minute. This moment let both girls know that the argument wasn't over. At least, not until Crescendo had the last word.

"I was—I was just really worried about you," Crescendo began, not even looking at her. Not looking at anything, really. He spoke in a trance. "I don't know what I would do with myself if I lost you. You're my sister, and I love you. Yeah, you may be the most annoying person at times, but what younger sibling isn't, right?" he took another long pause and finally said, "I won't tell mom. But don't let this happen again."

"I promise-"

"BUT you have to promise to never, ever, EVER make me worry like that again." He shot her a dark look, "Or else."

"Gonna be a curious little kitty here, and ask, or else what?" Santana questioned from the back seat.

"Or else I'll tell our mother, and she'll handle this a lot different than I did."

"How different?"

"Oh you know," Cres sighed, "Rehab."

"Ouch." Santana sunk back into her seat, and fastened her seat-belt. Then for just a moment, she laughed. Not at Crescendo, nor Falsetto. But just the situation she was in. She felt as though she was watching a cheesy reality TV show where the drama was obviously staged.

* * *

"So," Mr. Schue began on Tuesday afternoon in the dim-lit space of _The Klub_. "I've called this emergency glee meeting because we've got some bad news. Our Sectionals competition date has been moved to an earlier spot."

"What?" Tina, liked everyone else, was shocked.

"Why?" Mercedes asked, "Can they even do that?"

"It seems so." Mr. Schue answered. "So instead of being December 3rd, it's been changed to November 12th, which is next Saturday. That gives us just about ten days to figure everything out—who's getting the duet, who has the solo, and of course our group number."

"Mr. Schuester, if I may?" An eager Kurt raised a hand.

"Sure, Kurt."

Kurt stood up form his seat beside Blaine, and took the stage the curly-haired teacher once stood. "Blaine and I have actually been practicing a duet we'd like to try."

As soon as Kurt mentioned the name, everyone's eyes shot to Blaine. Then to Crescendo. Then back to Blaine. Confusion struck each glee clubber's face. Save for Santana, they hadn't been caught up in the Kurt-Blaine-Crescendo love triangle. Hell, they didn't even know there was such a thing. It seemed like Crescendo and Kurt had a happy and healthy relationship. But that was obviously tarnished, and the looks on their faces showed.

"Well," Mr. Schue broke out of his confusion, "Go ahead, by all means!"

Kurt gestured for Blaine to take the stage along side him, and he did. The lights dimmed, and the music quickly came on. Kurt began the song,

"_...Live in my house,  
I'll be your shelter,  
Just pay me back  
With one thousand kisses  
Be my lover  
and I'll cover you..."_

Kurt stared, dreaming, into Blaine's eyes. As did Blaine. It was apparent that the two had disregarded everyone else in the room, and disappeared into their own little world. Blaine then picked up with his part,

"_...Open your door,  
I'll be your tenant  
Don't got much baggage to lay at your feet  
But sweet kisses I've got to spare  
I'll be there and I'll cover you..."_

The duo broke away from their world for a moment, and faced the audience of New Directions members. Everyone in their seats stared with awe, and still had a hint of confusion. They couldn't really make anything of it. All they could do was sit and watch the two sing,

"_...I think they meant it when they said you can't buy love  
Now I know you can rent it  
A new lease you are my love, on life  
Be my life..."_

The two continued to sing, and continued to leave everyone in complete amazement. Well, except for Rachel. Rachel had her eyes set on Puckerman. Ever since Lauren got back from her extra-long visit at camp, Puck spent most of his time with her, and little to none with Rachel.

Rachel's mistake was that she thought they were on the same page when they disregarded the 'no strings attached' rule. She thought he had his strings attached just as much as she did. But, he didn't. Instead, he was in the corner of _The Klub_ canoodling with Lauren Zizes, and it made her blood burn red-hot.

It was strange, too, because Lauren Zizes wasn't like that. She wasn't the kind to try and make people jealous. Or at least, that's what Rachel thought.

"Mr. Schue," Crescendo spoke in a very calm manner once the song was over, "I'd like to try for the solo."

"Oh, of course, Crescendo." Schuester gestured for the boy to take the stage once Blaine and Kurt returned to their seats, "Take it away."

"_...Dreams, that's where I have to go  
To see your beautiful face anymore  
I stare at a picture of you and listen to the radio  
Hope, hope there's a conversation  
We both admit we had it good  
But until then it's alienation, I know  
That much is understood  
And I realize..."_

Crescendo made it more than obvious that he'd been singing to Kurt. His eyes were locked on the boy's since he took the stage.

"_...If you ask me how I'm doing  
I would say I'm doing just fine  
I would lie and say that you're not on my mind  
But I go out and I sit down at a table set for two  
And finally I'm forced to face the truth,  
No matter what I say I'm not over you, not over you..."_

Rachel listened to Crescendo's soothing voice, and reflected. She didn't really love Puck. She didn't like him at all, no, she just liked the idea of him. The idea of having a trophy boyfriend to flaunt around. No, not that either. She thought harder, thinking back to how the kids at McKinley parted when she waled down the halls with Puck. It was fear. Rachel loved the _fear_ that came with her new look.

"_...Damn, damn girl, you do it well  
And I thought you were innocent  
Took this heart and put it through hell  
But still you're magnificent  
I, I'm a boomerang, doesn't matter how you throw me  
I turn around and I'm back in the game  
Even better than the old me  
But I'm not even close without you..."_

Kurt and Blaine listened to the song, letting guilt run across their faces. Neither boy meant to make Crescendo feel this way, but they just couldn't help their feelings. It was like trying to stop a positive side of a magnet from attracting to the negative side of another magnet from less than an inch away.

_"...If you ask me how I'm doing  
I would say I'm doing just fine  
I would lie and say that you're not on my mind  
But I go out and I sit down at a table set for two  
And finally I'm forced to face the truth,  
No matter what I say I'm not over you_

_And if I had the chance to renew_  
_You know there isn't a thing I wouldn't do_  
_I could get back on the right track_  
_But only if you'd be convinced_  
_So until then..."_

Everyone applauded, even the guilty lovers. But even that didn't stop Crescendo from storming out of _The Klub_ with tears in his eyes.

"Okay, then," Mr. Schue commented on the abrupt departure of the amazing singer. "Would anyone else like to try a song?"

Silence.

"Come on, I know you guys want to try out!" Schuester encouraged, "Rachel? Mercedes? Anyone?"

"Well..." Mercedes began, "Santana and I might have a duet or two up our sleeves."

"Got that right, Aretha." Santana grinned.

"And I've got a solo I've been _dying_ to sing as of late," Rachel announced, "I'm sure most of you are familiar with Taylor Swift's _Better Than Revenge_?"

* * *

"So," Quinn muttered under her breath, not wanting to look up from her textbook. The school's library had a certain kind of silence to it that just made heart-wrenching moments seem way more dramatic than they actually were. "After Sectionals?"

Artie wheeled closer to his upset girlfriend in the silence of the library, "After Sectionals." he tried smiling, but Quinn didn't look up. He noticed the hurt in her posture, and placed his hands on hers. "Quinn," she didn't move, "Quinn, look at me." she obeyed, "Today's going to be amazing. Tomorrow will be, too. So will Thursday, and Friday, and Saturday, and every single day I'm with you until I leave. Hell, even the days apart will be great. As long as I can hear your voice, I'll be okay. You will be, too."

Quinn smiled, wiping a tear from her eye before it could make its way down her face.

"And when I come back, we're going to win Regionals, and then Nationals. And you want to know what else?"

"What?" Quinn anxiously replied.

"I'm going to take you dancing."

Quinn's held back tears finally fell. They weren't sad, no, they were happy. Tears of joy floated down her face like raindrops in the night sky. The two then shared a slow kiss over the towering amount of homework they had.

"Artie?" Quinn asked once their lips parted.

"Yeah?"

"I might regret asking, but how long will you be gone?"

He sighed, looking away from Quinn, "The plan is to stay until early March, so I can have enough time to get used to my new legs, and of course learn some dance moves. I'm sure Mike and Brittany won't mind teaching me a few things." he looked back up to Quinn, and noticed the tears of sadness making their way back onto her face. He placed a thumb on her cheek, wiping away a tear, then attempted to sooth her by saying, "Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it."

* * *

A/N:: awwwwww Quartie 3 && I hope the video of Max Schneider helped to get an idea of what Crescendo is like :)


	16. Competition

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Competition_

* * *

"What the hell do you mean you got suspended?" Crescendo angrily paced back and forth in his sister's bedroom. Her lights were off, and the Saturday morning sun illuminated the dark corners. She'd been lying on her bed, using her laptop when Crescendo stormed in.

"Cres," She spoke, in an uncaring manner, not taking her eyes off of her laptop, "I'm pretty sure you know what that means. This isn't the first time I've gotten in trouble. You already know I have a short fuse." she spoke as if this was an everyday thing.

"What did you even do?"

"I called Mrs. Hermes a bitch." Falsetto giggled at the memory that replayed in her head;

"_I seriously don't want to be here." Falsetto mumbled, walking into her Psychology class. She put on a fake smile, and greeted the teacher, "Good morning, Mrs. Hermes."_

"_Hi." the chubby blonde teacher responded without even looking away from the chalkboard._

_Falsetto just ignored the attitude and proceeded to get to her seat located in the center of the classroom. The bell ran only seconds later, triggering the stampede of students to rush in the class. Mrs. Hermes began her lecture once everyone had been in their chairs. "You're all going to read and outline chapter five, then answer questions 1-15 on page 75. This is all due at the end of class!"_

_Sighs of anguish from each student filled the air._

"_Someone's had an extra sprinkle of bitch in their coffee this morning." Falsetto muttered under her breath, not thinking that anyone had heard._

"_Excuse me, young lady?" Mrs. Hermes shot a devilish look at Falsetto._

_Setto hesitated, "I—I didn't say anything."_

"_Your glance to the left just now shows that you're unsure of yourself." the blonde teacher's voice grew with authority, "And your hesitation, in addition to the glance, adds up to just one thing."_

_Falsetto got defensive, "Please, enlighten me."_

"_You are a liar!"_

_Falsetto's left eye twitched, and blood boiled. She'd been called numerous names in the past, and she always seemed to brush them off. But whenever someone called her a liar, she lost it. She didn't consider herself a 'liar'. Sure, a little white lie here and there, but everyone has those moment where it's almost necessary to lie. But she'd never full on lie to ruin someone's life, or something of the matter._

"_You know what, Goldilocks?" Falsetto stood from her seat, forgetting who she was talking to, "I'm sick and tired of your sarcastic teaching authority bullshit! And I don't give a damn if you're older than me. If you show me no respect, then you get none in return!" she walked down the aisle and headed for the door. But just before she left, she added, "And you wanna know what else, Mrs. Doubtfire? I'm on my period, and I might just go on a PMS-induced rampage, comprende?"_

"_Young lady, you get back in this classroom!" the tomato-faced teacher yelled after Falsetto's disappearing shadow down the hall._

Crescendo gave his sister a judging look.

"What? She is."

"I don't care," Crescendo stopped pacing, and sat by his sister. "You can't just go around calling teachers bitches... even if it's true."

Falsetto laughed, "When did you become the boss of me? You're not dad, Cres, and you never will be."

"I may not be, but I'm older than you, so that gives me authority."

"Being ten minutes older than me does _not _give you the right to treat me like a child!" Falsetto sprang off of her bed, placing her laptop at her desk. She crossed her arms, and glared at her brother.

"It does when you're acting like one!" Crescendo's voice rose, which rarely ever happened in an argument, "I just—I just fear that history may be repeating itself. The parties, the alcohol, you're irrational behavior... I don't want-"

"It _won't_ happen!" Falsetto's voice grew with depth, fearing whatever it was that Crescendo had been implying with his tone.

"I'm sure it won't, but I don't want to chance it."

"Don't worry about me, Crescendo, I'm a big girl now."

Crescendo walked over to his sister, and they shared a hug. "Now hurry up and get ready, the bus for Sectionals is leaving in an hour."

* * *

"Tina," Mike Chang said to his long-time girlfriend on the bus ride over to Dalton Academy for their Sectionals competition. "I'm telling you, my parents won't approve. It's not what they want for me."

"But Mike," Tina pleaded," It's what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes, but-"

"But nothing!" She interrupted, "Dancing is your dream, your passion!" She urged, "You have to audition for _So You Think You Can Dance_. There's absolutely no way you won't get in. Mike, you're the most amazing dancer I know. When you dance, I can feel it. I can feel the emotions, the passion, the excitement!" Tina went on with her monologue.

"Why do you want me to audition so badly?"

Tina paused for a moment, "Because... because I know what it feels like to be someone you're not. It's really crappy, Mike. If you become a lawyer, or doctor, or whatever it is that your dad wants you to do, you'll know what I feels like. And believe me, it's not the most enjoyable feeling in the world."

Mike took a moment to reconsider. The bus slowed down into the parking lot at Dalton Academy, and eventually came to a complete stop.

"I'll let you know after Sectionals." Mike sighed, standing to get off of the bus.

"Positive?"

"Positive."

* * *

"Performing next in the Mid-West Ohio Sectionals Show Choir competition is, Aural Intensity!" As always, the show choir announcer spoke with much enthusiasm into the loudspeaker.

The members of Aural Intensity filled the stage. They had apparently been going for a 'Wizard Of Oz" theme. All of the girls were dressed in blue and white checkered dresses, and bright red heels, just like Dorothy. All of the male performers were dressed in clothes that resembled modern-day tin-men and scarecrows. They had performed a mashup of "Ease On Down The Road" from _The wiz_, and "Follow The Yellow Brick Road" from _The Wizard Of Oz._

"Wow."

"Oh."

"My."

"God." Tina, Kurt, Mercedes, and Rachel were all speechless at the performance. The rest of the audience applauded around them, giving a standing ovation for Aural Intensity.

"Great, how are we going to measure up to that?" Rachel sighed. She then looked to Mercedes, "You and Santana better kill this song you've been working on."

"Don't worry," Mercedes smiled with cockiness, "We've got this one in the bag. Those Dalton boys are next, then us. 'Save the best for last', right?"

"I sure hope so."

The announcer called forth The Warblers to the stage, and they took their positions with their backs facing the audience. The music quickly started, and Blaine immediately recognized the familiar tune of Katy Perry's _Waking Up In Vegas._

"_...You gotta help me out  
It's all a blur last night  
We need a taxi 'cause you're hung-over and I'm broke  
I lost my fake ID but you lost the motel key  
Spare me your freakin' dirty looks  
Now don't blame me  
You want to cash out and get the hell out of town..."_

The Warblers' newest singer started. He had short, brown hair and dark eyes. This boy was obviously Dalton's replacement for Blaine.

"_...Don't be a baby  
Remember what you told me..."_

Dalton's newest poster boy continued to sing the beginning of the chorus. But that's when the rest of the Dalton boys changed the beat they'd been making in a capella. It now matched that of another Katy Perry single,

"_...Cause you're hot then you're cold  
You're yes then you're no  
You're in then you're out  
You're up then you're down  
You're wrong when it's right  
It's black and it's white  
We fight, we break up  
We kiss, we make up..."_

The audience began cheering on the boys in uniform as they danced around the stage, making every girl in the audience swoon.

"_...Shut up and put your money where your mouth is  
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas  
Get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now  
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas..."_

"So remind me why you left Dalton for McKinley?" Kurt whispered to Blaine while the Warblers continued to perform.

"It's... complicated." Blaine blankly replied back.

* * *

Backstage, the New Directions were getting ready to perform. Blaine managed to escape from the group to see his old friends from Dalton.

"Well, if it isn't _the _Blaine Anderson." Jeff, a tall boy with blonde hair brooding over his eyes greeted the former Warbler.

"Came back to beg for a chance to rejoin us?" Nick, a shorter boy with jet black hair joked.

"Actually, I came to see all of you guys. It's been so long." Blaine hugged Jeff, then Nick, Thad, and Wes right after. He then noticed his replacement walking toward the group. "I also wanted to personally congratulate the new guy on getting the lead."

"You must be Blaine Anderson," his replacement spoke in a flirtatious manner. "The guys told me you were extremely talented, but they never mentioned anything about your looks matching said talents."

Blaine hesitated. "Thanks... I think?"

"Yes, it was a compliment." the other boy laughed.

Blaine just smiled. He kept his eyes locked on the other boy's. There was something about him... something different. Something that Blaine couldn't quite make out. A mystery.

"I—I should be getting back to my group, they're probably looking for me." Blaine began to dismiss himself.

"Right, break a leg out there. And I'm Sebastian, by the way." He finally introduced himself, "Sebastian Smythe."

"Next to perform all the way from Lima, Ohio, are McKinley High's New Directions!" the competition announcer made it known who was next.

"I guess that's my queue." Blaine hastily walked away from The Warblers to get to his group. "Sebastian..." he muttered under his breath.

Santana and Mercedes took the stage, clad in black dresses, and Mercedes began,

"_...We are the crowd, we're c-coming out  
Got my flash on it's true, need that picture of you  
It's so magical,  
We'd be so fantastical  
Leather and jeans,  
Garage glamorous  
not sure what it means but this photo of us  
It don't have a price, ready for those flashing lights..."_

She and Santana stood in their place. A spotlight shone over each girl, really setting the mood for the change of pace that Santana was about to bring,

"_...So Darlin', darlin', stand by me, stand by me  
Oh stand by me, stand by me, stand by me..."_

The rest of the New Directions walked onto the stage to fill in for the second chorus,

"_...I'm your biggest fan  
I'll follow you until you love me, Papa-paparazzi  
Baby, there's no other superstar  
you know that I'll be your  
Papa-paparazzi  
Promise I'll be kind, but I won't stop until that boy is mine  
Baby you'll be famous, chase you down until you love me  
Papa-paparazzi..."_

The lights now shone on the entire glee club as they danced around the stage in pairs. Brittany with Santana, Mike with Tina, Puck with Lauren, Kurt with Blaine, Crescendo with Rachel, Quinn with Artie, and Falsetto with Finn. All members, except Mercedes, were paired up. She was left out because she stood centerstage, belting out the final words,

"_...So Darlin', darlin', stand by me, stand by me  
Oh stand by me, stand by me, stand by me..."_

The audience applauded, and the lights died out. All of the New Directions members filed to the back of the stage, still facing the audience. They hummed, and snapped fingers, imitating the sounds of instruments as Artie took centerstage for his solo.

"_...It's calling my body  
It's calling my soul  
It's calling my mind  
So girl I gotta go  
Baby it's the grind  
Yes I had a good time  
(Don't get me wrong) You were so good  
And I really wish I could  
Stay a little bit longer  
Love you a little bit stronger  
And go a little deeper  
Baby with you  
But since this thing is calling I  
Gotta answer dry your eyes  
Girl don't cry  
'Cause your making it hard for me..."_

The rest of the glee club switched to singing multiple 'oohs' and 'aahs' as Artie went into the chorus.

"_...'Cause I don't want to leave (Ooo girl)  
But I gotta go right now  
I'll be back to hold you down (I don't wanna)  
I don't want to leave no  
But girl I gotta go right now  
But I'll be back before you know it..."_

* * *

A/N: next chapter, we'll see the results of this competition :)

Oh, and I got the idea for the mashup of "Paparazzi/Stand By Me" from a Youtuber that goes by the name "SIMGM" she makes glee spoof videos with Sims, and they're hilarious!


	17. It's Over

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_It's Over_

* * *

"Even though it's happening right in front of my very eyes, I refuse to believe it." Quinn sat adjacent to Artie in the uncomfortable seats of the Ohio State airport. Artie had his bags packed and ready to leave to Amsterdam. His parents had already said goodbye, and were waiting outside so the couple could have their private goodbyes.

"What can't you believe?" Artie asked, "That we lost Sectionals, or that I'm leaving?"

"That you're _leaving_, of course!" Quinn exclaimed. "I couldn't care less about some stupid show choir competition. Besides, I don't think anyone—besides Rachel, of course—cares that we lost."

"I care..." Artie's face grew sad at the sight of his girlfriend's apathetic attitude. He though she loved glee just as much as him. Maybe at some point in time she did, but that's obviously changed.

"I'm sorry," Quinn retaliated, "I'm just really emotional right now... with you leaving and all. I know I'll miss you each and every day."

"I'll miss you, too, Quinn. I don't think I've ever loved anyone quite like I love you." Artie smiled. He had always loves how Quinn wasn't afraid of showing her feelings in front of him, and she loved it even more when he would show his.

"I love you more!" Of all the things Quinn loved about their relationship, the _I love you more_, game had to be number one.

"No," Artie poked Quinn on the forehead, "I love _you_ more!"

"I don't think that's possible," Quinn said proudly, "I love you more than you can ever know."

"Well I love you more than Paris Hilton loves herself!"

"No fair!" Quinn laughed her final laugh before the passengers for Artie's flight were called to the gates. Hearing those words from the loudspeaker immediately destroyed whatever happy place Quinn put herself in. The light turned into darkness. The birds stopped chirping. The bright green colors of the leaves faded. Nothing could've prepared her for the moment she and Artie had their final goodbye before he wheeled away.

And as he did so, Quinn had to fight back an entire army of tears. She didn't want to break down while he was still in sight, because she feared that he might turn around like they do in the movies. And he did. The couple shared one final smile until he turned back around. Once he wheeled out of sight, the tears broke from Quinn's grasp and flooded her face.

* * *

"I just don't see why we should continue meeting like we're actually a club." Rachel paced back and forth on the stage of _The Klub_. The distraught New Directions members had been discussing their post-Sectionals plans since losing meant no more competitions for them. "We lost at Sectionals, you guys. _**Sectionals! **_And not to mention Artie's gone off to get his sea legs, Quinn's probably going to stop coming anyway because she won't be with Artie, Falsetto's always missing—or partying. And Santana and Brittany will be too preoccupied with Cheerios stuff to even pay us any mind." Rachel heavily sighed, then walked off stage.

Everyone sat quiet. Even though they hated to admit it, she was right. Facing a loss to the Warblers at Sectionals meant that the New Directions wouldn't really have a purpose. Unless, by some miracle, both Aural Intensity _and_ The Warblers couldn't compete at Regionals, the New Directions were out of luck.

"She's right, you guys." Mercedes stood from her seat, "I think it's time for us to get rd of the training wheels, and start living in the real world. We've all got our dreams and aspirations, maybe we can use this free time to chase after those dreams."

"And not to mention college applications are quickly approaching." Blaine added.

"Exactly, Mr. Schue," Rachel began once more, "I don't see how any of us will have enough time for a glee club that's literally going nowhere."

Mr. Schuester walked up to the stage. He glanced over the sad faces of the once happy students and questioned, "Is this how you all really feel?"

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement.

"Wow," Schuester was taken back, "Then I guess—and I really hate to say this—but it's over."

* * *

"So," Tina walked up to her boyfriend, Mike, at his locker one Thursday morning. Although the glee club disbanded, she still somehow managed to keep a smile on her face. "Have you made your decision yet? It's been almost a week."

Mike shut his locker, smiled, then kissed Tina on the cheek. "I think I have."

"And...?"

"I'm going to do it!" Mike exclaimed with a hint of excitement in his tone. "I'm going to audition for _So You Think You Can Dance._"

Tina jumped up and down, cheering on her boyfriend. She threw her arms around his neck, and they shared one of their infamous 'Asian kisses'.

"On one condition," Mike said.

"A condition?" Tina's facial expression quickly changed from excited to confused in less than a second. "What kind of condition?"

"You audition for _American Idol._"

"I'm sorry?" Tina laughed, thinking he was trying to tell a joke. But by the seriousness on his face, her laughter died out just as fast as it started up. "You're not joking..."

"Nope!" Mike smiled with pride, "So what's it gonna be? Yes, or no?"

"I-" Tina had never intended on ever doing such a thing. She loved watching the show just to make fun of it. The shy girl inside of her was too afraid of ever facing a panel of famous judges who might just break her spirit. She wanted to be a performer, yes, but not by some reality TV show. "Fine." she finally said, wishing she could take back the word once it left her mouth.

"Perfect!" Mike gave her one more kiss, then headed toward his class.

* * *

Thursday evening had definitely been a strange one. Kurt, Blaine, and Rachel still had night shifts waiting tables at _The Klub_. It was odd seeing a bunch of people there, because evenings were usually reserved for glee meetings. But since their disbanding nearly a week ago, nights were now open to the public.

An ignorant Quinn rushed through the doors of _The Klub_, ignoring the people she'd nearly hit. She expected a glee meeting, but only saw Rachel in her apron, "What's going on? Why are all these people here?"

Rachel shot Quinn a confused look as she took someone's order. "Oh, right," she remembered, "You were at the airport with Artie, so you don't know."

"I don't know what, exactly?" Quinn followed Rachel into the kitchen.

"Everyone voted to end the glee club. I guess you're free to be whoever you wanna be, or just focus on the Cheerios." Rachel took a plate with the customer's order and walked away in an uncaring manner.

Quinn followed, "Wait, what the hell do you mean that _we_ voted to end it? Do I get no say?"

"I doesn't matter, Quinn. Majority rules, and everyone at the meeting decided to end it. So that's that."

"No, it can't be!" Quinn protested, "We lost Sectionals, and I just lost Artie. I _can't_ lose glee too!"

"Well that's too bad, Quinn." Rachel sat at an empty table to give the girl a reality check, "Like the rest of us, you're going to have to find something to do with your new free time. Apply to colleges, get a job, party, I don't know. Do something—something new. It's hard, I know, but we have to move on."

"Rachel," Quinn's voice grew with irritation, "I tried something new when I agreed to date Artie-"

"With respect, I didn't ask for your life story." Rachel interrupted, definitely working with her newly adapted _bad girl_ attitude. "Try something newer." She got up from the table, and walked back to the kitchen. Another customer's meal was ready. She grabbed the two plates, and headed for a table where a lesbian couple were sat. She turned back to Quinn, who followed the entire time and said, "Have you ever been with a girl?"

* * *

"Why do you like me?" An insecure Lauren Zizes questioned Puck while he was stuffing his face with pasta at the infamous restaurant, Breadstix.

Between mouthfuls, he mumbled, "What?"

"Seriously, Puckerman," Lauren said again, desperation present in her voice, "Why do you like me?"

"That's easy," Puck wiped his mouth before saying, "You're a total badass. I'm a total badass. Do the math."

"Seriously, Noah."

"Whoa, that was weird." Puck caught the name-slip, "You never call me Noah. Something must seriously be wrong..."

"I really want to know why you're with me." All of Lauren's insecurities were catching up with her, "Is being a badass couple all you really care about? Do you even think I'm pretty?"


	18. Road To Love

Just a heads up: this chapter takes place during Christmas, but isn't really Christmas "themed".

Enjoy :)

* * *

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Road To Love_

* * *

"So, Santana, what are you going to ask Santa for Christmas?" Brittany asked the night before Christmas while the two were cuddled together under a bright red blanket in front of the fireplace at Santana's house. Her parents were away on a date, so the girls had the house to themselves.

"I've already got exactly what I want." Santana smiled, titled her head up to give Brittany a kiss.

"And what's that?" of course Brittany knew the answer, but she just wanted to hear it out-loud.

"All I want—all I'll ever want is you." They shared another soft kiss.

Silence followed. It wasn't awkward in the slightest, though. The two were at the point in their relationship where silences were never awkward. Besides, the crackling of the wood burning in the fire set a soothing tone.

"Britts?" Santana finally broke the silence after a few minutes.

"Yeah?"

"Have you," Santana hesitated. "Have you told your parents about us yet?"

Brittany's happiness was drained in an instant. She'd always thought that she and Santana would just runaway together without ever confronting her parents. She was scared to come out. It had always been a traumatic scene in her head. She always thought of how her uncle had come out of the closet at a family Thanksgiving dinner when she was very young. She didn't quite know exactly what a gay person was back then, but her uncle explained it to her simply.

"_Sometimes boys fall in love with boys, and sometimes girls fall in love with girls. It's perfectly normal, and nothing is wrong with it."_

She remembered those words liked it was tattooed on the back of her hand. And it might as well have been, because she felt like the only person in her family to think like that. After her uncle's big reveal, the family pretty much disowned him. They called him names that he told Brittany to never say to a gay person, and he was rarely ever seen again. No Thanksgiving dinners, no birthday parties, and no Christmases.

Brittany quietly replied, "No... I haven't."

"Britts," Santana spoke in a soothing manner, "I know it's a touchy topic, but they need to know. We won't be able to sneak around forever, y'know?"

"I know," Brittany ran a hand through Santana's dark hair. "But I'm just scared of what their reactions are going to be like. I don't want to be a Pygmy Killer Whale."

"A what?" Brittany's 'moments' never ceased to catch Santana surprised.

"Pygmy Killer Whales are actually dolphins, and they really want to be whales, but they're dolphins. And you know dolphins are just gay sharks..." Brittany explained the crazy theory that seemed to make sense in her brain.

"Right..."

"So what should we do? I really want to tell them, but I don't know how." Brittany sighed, still playing with Santana's hair.

She took a moment to think, but then it hit her, "Tomorrow's Christmas, and Christmas is the time for forgiving, and love, and all that mushy stuff, right?"

"Yeah..." Brittany didn't follow with anything Santana had been implying.

"So, that means there's no better time than tomorrow."

"That's a great idea, San," Brittany kissed her girlfriend's forehead, "Maybe Lord Tubbington will even give you Christmas candy bar poops."

Both girls giggled at the sight of Brittany's cat in a little Santa outfit giving out his feces as presents. Santana's parents had been out all night, so Brittany stayed over later than planned. Rather than diving right into each other's bodies, the girls lied close together, just listening to the sound of the other's heartbeat until their eyes stayed open no longer.

* * *

"Quinn, you know I'm Jewish, right?" Rachel said with an attitude to the blonde following her. Both had been doing some extremely late Christmas shopping in Lima's mall when they ran into each other. Since then, Quinn's been following Rachel around, bugging her to hang out on Christmas. "I don't celebrate Christmas, really. I just like gift-trading."

"It'll be fun, I promise!" Quinn pleaded. She didn't want to mess up a potential friendship again. During their sophomore year in High School, the two could've been friends. If it weren't for Quinn's hormones being out of whack due to her pregnancy, they might've actually made it. Rachel tried more than once to be her friend, but Quinn always rejected her with insults. But now, the tables were turned, and Quinn craved Rachel's friendship.

"I would, Quinn, but I'm busy." Rachel walked into a Toys R Us, aiming to get something for her baby cousins. Quinn followed. "Besides, I don't see why you want to hang out with the girl that you and your clones tormented for almost two years. How am I supposed to know that Brittany and Santana aren't are your house right now, waiting with red paint and feathers?" Rachel stopped in a section where the Nerf toys were in an abundance. She browsed through some that she thought her younger male cousin might like. "I know this game, Quinn. You want to gain my trust only to betray it. Jesse St. James did the same thing to me, remember?"

"Rachel, I've changed." Quinn took the Nerf toy that Rachel had been holding to get her attention, "You once said that we could be friends. But a the time, I was a complete bitch to you, and now we have a chance to make it right. And when glee disbanded, I thought we'd all go our separate ways, but I don't want to. And then you asked me if I'd ever been with a girl, and yes, that threw me off. But although I denied your crazy offer, it doesn't mean that I don't want us to at least try to be friends."

Rachel took Quinn's word to heart. She was right. Somewhere deep inside, Rachel knew they'd eventually become friends. She had always seen a future together with Quinn by her side, even though the two were polar opposites when they first met each other. "No paint and feathers?" Rachel said, looking down at the floor, thinking of horrible past experiences.

"No paint and feathers." Quinn assured.

"No slushies?"

"You're here with me right now, aren't you?" Quinn smiled, seeing the change of heart within Rachel. "Do you see any paint cans or slushie cups?"

Rachel shook her head, trying not to be embarrassed of the fear she still had of the head cheerleader. She had always been the dramatic type. Forgiving, but still dramatic.

"So, you'll come over tomorrow night?" Quinn asked again.

Rachel took two Nerf weapons, and nodded. "If my family time is cut short, I guess I can make it."

With that, Rachel began to walk away, toward the cash register. Only this time, Quinn didn't follow. She had gotten what she wanted, and that was a friend in the diva known as Rachel Berry. Throughout their years of knowing each other, Quinn had never been so nice to her, practically begging on her knees for forgiveness. But with the end of their High School careers rapidly approaching, she knew she had to set some things right. Artie leaving to Amsterdam only gave her a glimpse of what it would be like to say goodbye to McKinley forever. Sure, he'd be coming back in the Spring, but for now, it sucked being alone. And she didn't want to feel that pit in her stomach grow during summer when she had no friends. Quinn wanted to prevent it by any means necessary, even if it meant befriending someone she thought she hated for years.

But she didn't hate Rachel. She just wanted to maintain her shallow popularity title for years on end. And now she realized that her Cheerios uniform would mean nothing once she received her diploma.

* * *

It was now Christmas morning, and there were light snowflakes falling all over Lima. Carolers were going from door to door singing the same music they sang every year, kids played in the snow, and surprisingly, people were actually out running errands.

Santana woke up in her bedroom alone. Brittany must've left sometime in the night. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, because Santana's parents were still out. _Talk about wanky_, she thought to herself. She then turned over in her bed, feeling around for her cell phone. When she found it, she immediately noticed that there'd been multiple unread texts sent throughout the night.

_**From Brittany:**_ _I left in the middle of the night, so when you wake up w/o me just know I love you 3._

_**From Brittany:** It's really cold out here :(_

_**From Falsetto:** Where R U? We were supposed to crash Amy's xmas party!_

_**From Brittany:** No wonder, I left my jacket at your house! LOL_

"Oh, Britts." Santana laughed to herself as she replied to the texts.

_**To Brittany:** Good morning, beautiful, and Merry Christmas 3_

_**To Falsetto:** Girl, calm your ass down, I don't want to have to drive all the way out to Cleveland for you again!_

Santana then walked into the private bathroom that was connected to her own room. She caught a glimpse of the mark Brittany left on her neck and laughed. Good thing it was winter, she could just cover it up with a scarf.

Elsewhere, Brittany was making breakfast for Lord Tubbington. Tuna with crushed up Oreos were his favorite. She had often thought he was secretly pregnant because of his weird appetites, but Santana always reminded her that he's just a fat cat.

"Good morning, sweetie," Brittany's upbeat and cheery mother greeted her. She pranced into the kitchen wearing an embarrassing Rudolph sweater that actually had a nose that lit up. She held a small box perfectly wrapped in green and red striped wrapping paper, and a golden bow to hold it all together. She handed the box to her daughter. "Merry Christmas!"

"Thanks, mom!" Brittany carefully opened the present box. Inside of the box, there was a gold heart-shaped locket. She opened the locket, and on the left side, in very small letters, were the words, _I will always love you_.

"For you and your husband, when you get married." Her mom spoke without question.

Brittany didn't say anything to that. It only proved that her mom might've been unaccepting, due to the fact that she felt the need to add the 'husband' part. Then, without much thought, she shot out, "Can Santana come over later?" with hesitation caused by a confused look from her mother, Brittany had to add, "I left my jacket at her house, and she wants to bring it over.

"Oh, but of course sweetie! I'll even bake an extra pie!"

After that near-miss experience with her mom in the kitchen, Brittany ran up to her room to make a phone call to Santana. While the phone rang, she played with the locket in her hand, trying to figure out what to put in it.

"Britts? Hello?" Santana answered the her phone, panting.

"Santana, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Santana took a breath, "I just got back from my morning jog. I'm a bit out of breath."

Brittany smiled, "I can't wait to see you."

"Me neither. I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

"Christmas specials, cookies, and egg nog? Are you sure you changed your mind about my crazy hook up idea?" Rachel plopped down on Quinn's bed, shoving a Christmas cookie shaped like a reindeer into her mouth.

"Like I said, It's a crazy idea." Quinn placed two cups filled to the brim with egg nog on her night stand. "I love Artie far too much to cheat on him."

"And what if he's found someone else?"

"He would never." Quinn sat beside Rachel, taking a sip of her egg nog.

"But what if?"

"Well," Quinn sighed, "I guess I'd have to move on. Odds are, if he _did_ have someone else, then he'd stay over there and wouldn't even bother coming back. But that's not going to happen, because we love each other. Even if we're a thousand miles apart, nothing can separate us."

"Wow," Rachel smiled, taunting Quinn, "You're really head-over-heels for him, aren't you?"

"I am. In fact, that's him calling me right now to wish me a merry Christmas." Quinn answered the buzzing of her phone, and excused herself to another room.

Only, she didn't answer the phone with the usual 'hello'. She sang,

_"...Making my way downtown  
Walking fast  
Faces pass  
And I'm home bound_

_Staring blankly ahead_  
_Just making my way_  
_Making a way_  
_Through the crowd..."_

"Quinn?" Artie answered on the other line, but Quinn was too lost in her song to pay him any mind. She hadn't sang since before Sectionals, and the love of the song was burning inside of her. And breaking out into song seemed to be the only way she could express her feelings at the moment.

_"...And I need you  
And I miss you  
And now I wonder..._

_If I could fall_  
_Into the sky_  
_Do you think time_  
_Would pass me by?_  
_'Cause you know I'd walk_  
_A thousand miles_  
_If I could_  
_Just see you_  
_Tonight..."_

"_Quinn!_" Artie shouted into the phone receiver. This time, he actually caught her attention and ended the song.

"Hi there." She smiled to herself as if he were in front of her.

* * *

"I want you out of my house. Now."

"But mom, I-"

"Now!"

"You're a monster, you know that?" Santana took Brittany into her arms, "And you'll regret this!" She walked Brittany up to her room, and threw clothes into the nearest bag she could find. She didn't even try to grab specific outfits. All she knew was that she had to get Brittany the hell out of the house, and to a safer place.

As Santana threw more clothes into a separate, bag, Brittany just sat on the edge of her bed, rocking back and forth, and crying. No, not crying. Bawling. She thought she prepared herself for being unaccepted, but no amount of pretending could've prepared her for the real thing. The amount of hate in her mother's eyes was unbelievable. It was as if she didn't even consider Brittany a daughter anymore.

Santana grabbed both bags that she packed, and escorted Brittany downstairs. "Wait in the car, I'll be there in a minute!" Brittany obeyed. There wasn't much else she could do at this point. Her mom wasn't even her _mom_ anymore.

"You," Brittany's mother scolded Santana, "_You _did this to my daughter! You made her this way!"

Santana lost all respect for the woman she once thought so highly of, "I didn't make her do anything! She doesn't have a choice in who she is, but you have a choice to help he figure it out or not. But I guess you're far too ignorant to help her—your _daughter—_through this. I hope you're happy; you just lost the most amazing person in the world." Santana snatched a Christmas cookie from the plate that Mrs. Pierce had set up on the kitchen counter, "Merry Christmas."

At Santana's house, Santana unpacked Brittany's bags, while Britts sat in the same position she'd been in since they left her house. She clutched the locket her mom had gave her just hours ago in her hand, and cried. She cried for help. Cried for acceptance. Cried for love.

"Brittany, it's going to be okay," Santana sat beside her girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her. "I know it seems like there's no light at the end of the tunnel right now, but you need to be strong. _We _need to be strong."

"_...We can be strong, we can be strong  
Out on this lonely road, on the road to love  
We can be strong, we can be strong  
Follow that unicorn on the road to love.."_

Santana began singing one of Brittany's favorite songs. It mentioned Unicorns, and that was her favorite animal—although it wasn't real. But the fact that Brittany had such innocence made Santana love her even more.

She then switched it up, mashing it together with another Gaga hit,

"_...It's hard to feel the rush, to brush the dangerous  
I'm gonna run right to, to the edge with you  
Where we can both fall far in love..."_

Brittany lied on Santana's shoulder as she was serenaded. She couldn't really think straight. Every wall in her life came crashing down. The only two things that were keeping her together were Santana, and the gold locket her mom had given her. She knew Santana would love her for an eternity, and that locket would soon become home to a picture of the two.

"_...Get your hot rods ready to rumble 'cuz we're gonna fall in love tonight  
Get your hot rods ready to rumble 'cuz we're gonna drink until we die  
Get your hot rods ready to rumble 'cuz we're gonna fall in love tonight  
Get your hot rods ready to rumble 'cuz we're gonna drink until we die_

_I'm on the edge of glory, and I'm hanging on a moment of truth  
Out on the edge of glory, and I'm hanging on a moment with you  
I'm on the edge, the edge, the edge, the edge, the edge, the edge, the edge,  
I'm on the edge of glory, and I'm hanging on a moment with you  
I'm on the edge with you..."_


	19. Marilyn Monroe

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Marilyn Monroe_

* * *

"My name is Brittany S. Pierce, and my parents don't love me anymore."

Brittany was one of fifteen people occupying McKinley's empty gymnasium. The occupants sat in a circle in the middle of the gym. Brittany was standing just in front of her seat, speaking to the group. The rest of the occupants consisted of Santana Lopez, Lauren Zizes, and some others that Brittany didn't recognize. There seemed to be another lesbian couple, and that made Brittany more comfortable with speaking to the group.

"I—I came out to my parents about a month ago." She paused. "On Christmas. I thought they'd accept me, but I was wrong. My dad wasn't home at the time, but my mom made it clear that she didn't want me to live under her roof anymore." she stopped speaking once more, then looked to her right. Santana's smiling face reminded her that she didn't have to feel this way, and that there would always be light even in the darkest places.

"So sorry to hear that." An extremely feminine-looking boy across from Brittany spoke out. Although looking very androgynous, he had masculine mannerisms. What made Brittany initially think that he was a girl were his voice and his weight. He was extremely thin for a boy. But it wasn't to the point where he looked unhealthy.

"Thanks," Brittany said, now taking her seat.

"Would you like to share?" An older man asked, directing his attention to the feminine-looking boy. It was apparent that he was the one who put the support group together judging by the authority in his tone.

"Me?" the boy looked up, "Of course, I'd love to." he stood, moving his dirty blonde hair from his face. He smiled, and continued, "I'm Charlie, Charlie Addams."

"Hi, Charlie." Everyone in the circle greeted.

"I guess my struggle started when I was born, like most of you. See, I'm different, I'm special." Charlie spoke, staring at the floor, "I was originally born Charlotte Addams, and-"

"Wait," Lauren Zizes interrupted from beside Charlie, "Charlotte? Isn't that a girl's name?"

"Yeah," Charlie laughed, glancing at Lauren. He loved getting that confusion from people when they first met, "I was born a girl. Or at least, physically I was. I'm what you'd call a female-to-male transgender—FTM for short."

"That explains your perfect skin," Lauren joked with him, and he laughed along.

"Thanks, I get that a lot." He smiled, now looking up, feeling completely comfortable in this room of strangers. "But it's not easy being different. I'm 21-years old now, out on my own, and yeah, it's a big relief. But I'm always plagued by my past. During my senior year of High School—before I had the surgery—I got beat up by a bunch of girls because I was different. They called me all the names in the book, and I was completely hopeless. But after that incident, I went on the internet, and read all of these amazing stories about these kids just like us, the kids who aren't average. The kids who are better than average. The stories would be about how they struggled, but made it through the worst of times. With those brave kids in mind, I finished High School, got my surgery, and here I am now." Charlie smiled to every teary-eyed person in the room. "I'm a perfect example that it gets better."

The members of the support group stood and applauded Charlie on his bravery to share his story.

"Would anyone else like to share their stories?" the man from before addressed the group.

"I'd like to," Lauren rose her hand, then stood from her seat ready to share. "I'm Lauren Zizes."

"Hi, Lauren." the group greeted with the same energy as before.

"Obviously, I'm not super-model thin, and that's never really been a problem before. It's also not like me to be insecure about my body, but lately, I just want to be thinner."

"And why's that, Lauren?" The instructor questioned, "What has made your confidence levels go down?"

"I don't know, my boyfriend, I guess. See, last May, I left for Wrestling camp, and when I came back in the fall, he was dating someone else. It was really cheating, because we broke up before I left, but to see him with someone that didn't look like me hurt."

"What do you mean this girl didn't look like you?"

"Well, for one, she's shorter than I am. She's thinner, prettier, a better singer, and-"

"Stop, Lauren." Santana interrupted, standing up from her seat, "Don't compare yourself to Rachel. She's got an obsession with fame, and hideous reindeer sweaters. You know that she's nowhere near your level. You brought Puckerman to his knees, something that even I couldn't do."

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" the instructor switched his attention to Santana, with confusion.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm Santana—yeah, yeah, I know, _hi Santana—_Lauren, Brittany and I go to the same school. Brittany's my girlfriend, actually." She smiled down to Brittany, then continued, "Anyway, we're all in a glee club, actually, we _were_ in a glee club together until we lost a competition and broke up—but that's not the point. The point is," she switched her attention back to Lauren, "You're beautiful, Lauren. You may not look like Megan Fox, but you're beautiful. We all are." she gestured to the entire group, who then smiled back at her. "Oh, and in the glee club, we usually sing about our feelings, and Britts and I prepared a song just for today."

"That's amazing," Charlie said, "I've always wanted to be apart of something like that."

"Yeah," another group member spoke out, "Let's hear it!"

"Well, alright." Santana announced, "This is a song that lets people know that even the people that seem to have no problems might be the ones suffering the most."

Brittany stood from her seat next to Santana. She rifled through the seemingly endless list of songs on her iPod, and selected the one she and Santana prepared. They locked pinkies like they'd always done when walking together, and Brittany began singing along,

_"...I can be selfish  
Yeah, so impatient  
Sometimes I feel like Marilyn Monroe  
I'm insecure yeah I make mistakes  
Sometimes I feel like I'm at the end of the road_

_I can get low I can get low_  
_Don't know which way is up_  
_Yeah I can get high, I can get high_  
_Like I could never come down..."_

Santana picked up the chorus, feeling the beat,

"_...Call it a curse  
Or just call me blessed  
If you can't handle my worst  
You ain't getting my best  
Is this how Marilyn Monroe felt felt felt felt?  
Must be how Marilyn Monroe felt felt felt felt..."_

Everyone in the circle bobbed their heads and moved with the girls. Charlie began to clap along with the beat, and the rest soon followed. Brittany continued,

"_...Its like all the good things  
They fall apart like  
Like Marilyn Monroe..."_

Lauren walked to Santana's side, linking pinkies with her, and the three sang together,

_"...Truth is we mess up  
Till we get it right  
I don't want to end up losing my soul_

_I can get low, I can get low_  
_Don't know which way is up_  
_Yea I can get high, I can get high_  
_Like I could never come down..."_

Santana then took a step forward, away from Lauren and Brittany. She placed a hand on her chest, feeling the emotions that the song emitted. In the center of the circle, she finished the song once the beat vanished,

"_...Call it a curse  
Or just call me blessed  
If you can't handle my worst  
You ain't getting my best  
Is this how Marilyn Monroe felt felt felt felt?  
Must be how Marilyn Monroe felt felt felt felt..."_

* * *

"NEXT!"

The young Asian dancer walked out onto the audition stage of _So You Think You Can Dance_. A spotlight followed him as soon as he made it centerstage. He stared out into the audience, but he couldn't see past the fifth row, due to the lights being so bright. Somewhere in the darkness beyond his vision, were judges. He knew, because he caught a glimpse just before the lights shot on.

"My name is Mike Chang, and I'll be performing my own piece with Jack Johnson's _Bubble Toes _backing me up."

"Carry on." a voice sounded from the darkness. From what he could tell, it was a female judge.

The night after his audition, Mike held his head high. He remembered the sound of amazement in the judges' tones. They told him that he "had a bright future" and that he'd "make it far in the business". Of course, they couldn't tell him if he made it into the competition yet, but judging by the way they spoke to him, he knew that he made it to the next round.

"So tell me about your audition," Tina questioned Mike as he sat down across from her in the Lima Bean, holding two cups of coffee. "How did it go?"

"It was great," Mike smiled at the memory, "They loved me."

"Which routine did you finally settle on?" Tina wondered.

"Of course, I was going to use my go-to routine with _Smooth Criminal_, but it didn't feel right, y'know? I felt like it was a safety net, being that I've been doing it since I was a kid. But then I decided to use my _Bubble Toes_ routine. And I guess it paid off." He smiled, then took a swig of his coffee.

"I always loved that one."

"Me too." Mike mixed more cream into his coffee before asking, "How was your audition?"

The question felt odd leaving his mouth. The two had always supported each other in anything they did. Any audition, any song, any dance—_anything._ So saying those words without actually knowing felt strange.

"It was," Tina nervously drank her coffee, hiding something, "It—It was great." Tina stuttered, "But I'd much rather hear about yours."

Mike shrugged, then began to tell Tina everything. He told her what he ate for breakfast, how he prepared, the car ride to the studio where the audition was, and even what he ate afterward to calm his nerves. He also told her how he had the strongest feeling that somehow he knew he made it to the next round. Tina, of course, thought the same after he told her what the judges had said about his dancing.

"Mike, that's amazing!" Tina's face lit up as she went in for a kiss Mike.

He accepted the kiss, then asked once more, "How was yours? I mean, I know singing can be kind of intimidating when you have no one backing you up."

"It was great," Tina paused, looking into her coffee, "I sang my go-to song, _True Colors _by Cyndi Lauper. Not as risky as you, but I still made it."

"Made it? As in _made _it? Like, to Hollywood?' Mike couldn't believe his ears. He practically shouted to the high heavens how proud he was.

"Of course Simon was harsh," Tina spoke more confident, believing every word she said, "But he didn't stop me from progressing."

"I don't believe it." Mike took a breath. "We're both making an attempt to follow our dreams. It's about time, don't you think? I have a great feeling about this.

Tina kept her smile up, "So do I."


	20. Valentine

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Valentine_

* * *

"Of all days to be sick, your immune system just decides to shut down now?" Blaine sat at Kurt's bedside with a bowl of what looked to be chicken soup. Kurt was bundled up under his black sheets, with a stuffy nose, clammy palms, and a warm forehead.

"I know," Kurt croaked, "This is the first time I'm actually with someone on Valentine's day, and I'm sick!" he sneezed into a tissue Blaine had handed him just before.

"Don't worry about it," Blaine lied down next to Kurt, unafraid of his germs, "I'll stay here with you all night, and sing to you until you get better."

Kurt managed to crack a smile through his dry lips, "How do you not have the _Boyfriend of the year_ award already?"

"Oh, but I do," Blaine made the dorky, yet equally adorable face he always made before the cheesy one-liner, "My reward is you, Kurt."

"_Charming."_ Kurt said sarcastically.

There was a brief silence. More of an admiration between the two boys. They had fallen in love in such a short time, and both Kurt and Blaine knew they'd be together for the long run. Kurt looked lovingly into Blaine's eyes, thinking to himself how lucky he was. Then the guilt hit him. The guilt of cheating on Crescendo, the guilt of liking Blaine even though he'd been with Rachel, and the guilt of flaunting Blaine around like Crescendo never mattered.

"Blaine," Kurt broke the silence, trying to dismiss the guilty thoughts, "I love you so much."

"Why—why does it sound like you're about to drop a bomb?"

"I'm not, I just—I just want you to know how bad I feel for kicking you out on Valentine's Day." Kurt propped himself up on his bed, and took a hold of Blaine's hand, "I want you to go out, and have fun. You and I both know you'd rather be singing with your Dalton boys, or even with the Cheerios at their Valentine's fundraiser event."

"But Kurt-"

"Don't you dare, Blaine." Kurt smiled. "I can see it in your eyes. No amount of love is going to keep you here, fetching me tissues and reading the latest _Cosmopolitan_." Kurt brought Blaine's hand to his lips. He planted a soft kiss, "Now sing to me before you go."

"I—fine." Blaine finally gave in. There was no way he could fight back when Kurt was being so forceful. He liked Kurt with a little bit of attitude, it was quite the turn on for him. And obeying Kurt's orders, Blaine grabbed the guitar that made it's home in the center of Kurt's room, then sat back beside him. He strummed it a few times, making sure it was tuned, then began to play the first song that popped up in his mind.

_"I don't even know  
I've never felt this way before  
But with someone like you  
It makes sense_

_And I don't wanna go_  
_I'll stay with you forever just_  
_As long as you love me, too_  
_Just as long as you love me, too..."_

Kurt stared into Blaine's eyes. No, not his eyes. His heart. The regret that once looked Kurt right back in the face was gone. Blaine was his muse. Blaine was his life, his world, his everything. There were no words to describe how this prep-school boy with insane amounts of gel in his hair made him feel.

"_...It's the way that you talk  
And the way that you smile  
And the way that you love black and white  
Baby, it's the way that you hold my hand in the car  
And the way that we lie in the sand  
And we watch the sun go down..."_

Kurt couldn't help but sing the next part,

_"...It's not that hard to see  
That a single day without you  
Could make me go crazy_

_It takes my breath away_  
_It gives me butterflies_  
_When you hold me when you sleep_  
_When you hold me in your sleep_  
_I never want to leave..."_

Blaine smiled at Kurt as he sang. Even with a stuffy nose and sore throat, Kurt's voice still somehow managed to make play a symphony in Blaine's mind. The two then sang together, completely lost in love,

"_...It's the way that you talk  
And the way that you smile  
And the way that you love black and white  
Baby, it's the way that you hold my hand in the car  
And the way that we lie in the sand  
And we watch the sun go down..."_

* * *

"Well, well, well," the ever-snarky tone of Dalton's newest Warbler met the ears of one Blaine Anderson, "If it isn't Blaine Warbler..."

He blushed. He hadn't been called that name in almost a year, and even though it was embarrassing, he felt as though it was endearing at the same time.

Blaine had been sitting front-row in the auditorium of Dalton Academy School for Boys when Sebastian approached him. There was no mistaking that Sebastian had feelings for the boy, and he wasn't afraid to show it. But Blaine had no idea how to show he wasn't interested—at all.

"Good afternoon to you too, Sebastian." Blaine spoke in his normally dapper tone.

"Good afternoon? Why are you so goody-goody?" Sebastian half-joked, "I thought prep-school boys were supposed to be sarcastic little pricks behind the blazers and ties—at least, that's how I am." a narcissistic laugh escaped him as he finished speaking.

An uncomfortable Blaine simply replied, "Well, not all of us, I guess."

Just then, Sebastian was called back to the stage. It was time for his solo in the Warblers' Valentine's Day concert. "This one's for you, Blaine." he winked just before he ran back up on stage. At his sides were Nick and Jeff, the go-to back up singers. The spotlight hit the trio, Sebastian smiled that conceited smile once more just before he sang,

_"Everybody's looking for love. (oh, oh)  
Ain't that the reason you're at this club. (oh oh)  
You ain't gonna find a dance with him. (no oh)  
Got a better solution for you girl. (oh oh)_

_Just leave with me now. Say the word and we'll go._  
_Ill be your teacher. Ill show you the ropes._  
_You'll see a side of love you've never known._  
_I can see it going down, going down..."_

This wasn't a 'normal' Dalton performance. Usually the entire group swarmed the stage, singing back up for whoever had the solo. But this time, it was just Sebastian, Nick, and Jeff, and three microphones standing centerstage. No fancy foot work, no crazy flips and tricks. Nothing.

"_...In my head, I see you all over me.  
In my head, you fulfill my fantasy.  
(In my head) You'll be screaming no.  
In my head, its going down.  
In my head, its going down.  
In my head. Yeah. In my head. Oh yeah..."_

* * *

"Does Tina know you're here with me?" Falsetto questioned Mike Chang the evening of Valentine's Day. Usually, Tina and Mike had done everything together, but Tina had been too busy for a romantic dinner. So instead, Mike and Falsetto went out to Breadstix to support the Cheerios in their Valentine's Day concert fundraiser.

But they hadn't gone out romantically—no. They were just two friends. Earlier in the week, they'd been paired up to work on a science project together. And this _just _so happened to be the only night where both of them were free.

"I mean," Falsetto began again, "I just don't want any drama with Jet Li's clone."

"Of course she knows I'm here," Mike spoke with confidence as they were seated at their table. "Besides, aren't you—you know?"

"What?"

"A _lesbian?_" he whispered as if the entire restaurant could hear him.

"Wow," her eyes widened, "What in the world gave you that idea?"

"You're always with Brittany and Santana, so I just kind of assumed, I guess."

"Sorry to disappoint, then." Falsetto picked up the menu in front of her, scanning over the pasta specials, and of course, the _Endless Breadstix Breadsticks_ special.

"Well, I'm sorry then... I think." to relieve the awkward moment that ensues, Mike retaliated by saying, "How about we just get to talking about the project, huh?"

"Sure." Falsetto agreed, placing her menu down. It took only seconds for the girl to get distracted, and begin an entirely new conversation. "So, you and Tina; how's that working out?"

Mike flinched. He never though that she'd care about his personal life, or him, for that matter. "It's fine, I guess. Why do you care?"

"Honestly, I don't." Falsetto sighed, "but my therapist says I should be friendly as apart of some stupid technique. But I don't see how being friendly is going to help me out."

"Therapist...?" Mike was stuck on the word. He now realized that he knew nothing about Falsetto other than she could sing really well, and she was friends with the inseparable Brittana (something the glee members had come up with).

"Haven't you heard?" She spoke jokingly, but frowned once the words actually escaped her mouth, "I'm a drug addict."

Mike didn't say anything at first. He was too busy putting the pieces together. He _did_ notice something else about her before. He behavior. She'd always have a glazed over look on her face whenever she actually showed up to glee meetings. And when she did, she never rehearsed. She just sat around, making jokes with Brittany and Santana. He didn't think it'd been something as serious as drugs, though.

"I-" Mike croaked, "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't worry about it," she spoke with some sort of confidence hidden behind her broken self, "I'm getting through this. I've done it before, it's no big deal... it's no big deal." she repeated to herself.

Mike smiled, letting the girl know that he was comfortable with putting the conversation back to rest just as she wanted.

"So," she said once more, "How _are_ you and Tina?"

"Oh," Mike stuttered, "I—I don't really want to talk about it."

"Come on, Bruce Lee, just tell me!" she placed her hand on his over the table, and he pulled his away immediately.

"Whoa," he said, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Wow, you must really love her." Falsetto retreated back to her seat. "Most guys would've tried to tap this already. I mean, look at us. We're at Breadstix on _Valentine's Day._ And we're not even a couple. I mean, unless you're secretly in the closet—which I'm totally okay with."

"What?" Mike felt embarrassed, "Falsetto, I'm not gay. I just think Tina might be lying to me."

_Bingo._

Falsetto slyly grinned, "So that's her big flaw? She's a liar? What'd she lie about?" she might not have been interested before, but she sure as hell was now. She always took any opportunity she could to get some dirt on others.

"Promise you won't tell anyone?" Mike's eyes widened with desperation.

"I promise."

The Asian dancer hesitated to respond. He didn't quite trust Falsetto yet, being that he barely knew her. But she seemed trustworthy, and he could really use someone to talk to. When he finally gathered his thoughts, he replied, "Well, back when we all had lost Sectionals, Tina and I had an agreement that we'd audition for two different TV shows. Her for _American Idol_, and me for _So You Think You Can Dance_. And of course, since we had a bunch of free time on our hands, we tried out. It was kind of like an 'audition pact'... anyway, whenever we'd talk about it, she would always deflect by telling me how harsh Simon had been, or-"

"Wait," Falsetto interrupted with a sudden interest, "Simon? Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Mike said, "That's what she'd say. Why?"

Falsetto took a breath before dropping the news on Chang. "Simon isn't even on the show anymore."

"He-"

"Alright you blubbering grease monkeys," The ever-so-polite Sue Sylvester spoke into a microphone, announcing the start of the Cheerios' concert. "Time to shutup, or get out. My dear Cheerios are going to take the stage, and show all of you talentless heathens what true talent is. And what it takes to be National Championship winners—something _none_ of you will ever know. Especially those of you who were once part of the failing Nude Erections glee club. So sorry that I'm not sorry for your loss."

After Sue announced the Cheerios, they took the stage. The lights in Breadstix dimmed, and everyone stood quiet, in fear of facing the wrath of the malicious cheerleading coach.


	21. Deal Or No Deal

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Deal Or No Deal_

* * *

"It's like, I try so hard, but I still feel broken." Falsetto spoke solemnly whilst lying down on the couch in the dim-lit office of her therapist, Mrs. Patterson. She'd been meeting more frequently now, going four times a week as opposed to the original twice a week. The budding friendship with Mike Chang probably had something to do with it, or maybe the emptiness was some sort of aftermath from quitting the drugs and alcohol and parties. "I made a new friend, like you said—Mike—his name's Mike. He's a dancer, and he was in glee club with me."

"Do you like this boy?" Mrs. Patterson jotted down notes on Falsetto's expressions on her clipboard.

"Oh God no," Falsetto lightly chuckled, "He's just a friend. I only started talking to him because you said I need one. Besides, he's got a girlfriend, and he's not my type _at all._"

"A girlfriend?"

"Yeah, but their relationship is on the ropes," Falsetto shot out, "I've been trying to help him, be he has no back bone. It's like I have to do everything for him, y'know?"

"How does that make you feel?"

"It makes me feel...useless? I don't know, like I'm not good enough or something." Falsetto paused to take a breath. Although she'd been meeting with Mrs. Patterson for a couple of months now, she still didn't feel quite comfortable spilling out all of her problems, "I was never usually the one to take on the relationship counseling role, but with Mike, it's different. He has a kind heart, and I don't want to see him hurt."

Mrs. Patterson stood quiet, as she knew Falsetto still had more to say.

"I—I've faced enough hurt and pain in my life for generations. I don't want to see the people I consider friends hurting like me... I don't want them to go down the same path I did."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You know what I mean," Falsetto said, "The drugs, the alcohol... _everything._"

"No, there's something else, I can see it. Something about this boy that you're not telling me." Mrs. Patterson removed her large glasses, and crossed her legs, "Why don't we try a new method to get you to express yourself, huh? You mentioned before you were in a glee club?"

"Yes."

"So why not try picking a song that expresses how you feel? Unless of course, you're shy, then I completely understand."

"No," Falsetto stood from her resting position, "I can do it—I actually know the perfect song."

Falsetto created a symphony of strings and piano in her mind. Somewhere inside, there was a stage, a single mic, and an entire orchestra just for her. The audience was completely empty, minus two seats. One seat for Mike. And the other for Crescendo.

"_My mother bought it secondhand from a silent movie star  
It was out of tune but still I learned to play  
And with each note we both would smile forgetting who we are  
And all the pain would simply fly away..."_

Falsetto sang ever so softly, thinking of only her brother and new friend sitting in the audience she created. The office she was in, and even Mrs. Patterson no longer had a presence. It was just a pure emotional connection to the two people she needed most.

"_...Something secondhand and broken still can make a pretty sound  
Even if it doesn't have a place to live  
Oh, the words were left unspoken when my Mama came around  
But that Secondhand White Baby Grand still had something beautiful to give..."_

She snapped back to reality for a moment, realizing where she was; who she was with.

"_...Through missing keys and broken strings the music was our own  
Until the day we said our last goodbyes  
The baby grand was sent away  
A child all alone, to pray somebody else would realize  
That something secondhand and broken still can make a pretty sound  
Even if it doesn't have a place to live  
Oh, the words are still unspoken now that Mama's not around  
But that Secondhand White Baby Grand still has something beautiful to give..."_

"Is this why you've taken a liking to Mike?" Mrs. Patterson concurred, once the symphony died out in Falsetto's mind, and the stage went dark. "You think he might turn out to be broken, like you?"

"Exactly," Falsetto sat back down, "He reminds me so much of my brother, with his protective attitude. He's like a second brother—Allegretto maybe?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing—our names." Falsetto smiled to herself, staring at the corner of the room, "Our parents have this thing for music, hence _Falsetto_ and _Crescendo_."

"I see." Mrs. Patterson glanced at her watch. She announced that the therapeutic hour was nearing it's end, and it'd be best for Falsetto to go. Just before the troubled girl left, she received one last piece of advice—to help Mike. Mrs. Patterson figured that maybe if Falsetto helped someone else with their problems, her problems might not seem so big and they'd just go away.

Or so she hoped.

* * *

"To be quite honest, Sebastian," Blaine smiled as he sat across from the sassy Warbler he'd involuntarily become friends with. It was the Sunday morning after Valentine's Day, and Kurt was still under the weather, so Blaine decided to meet up with Sebastian at the Lima Bean. Of course, he thought it was nothing serious, just two friends. But Sebastian thought completely different. "I really do miss performing onstage. It's a bummer that the New Directions lost at Sectionals, and can no longer compete."

"Right.." Sebastian showed false sympathy as he mixed cream into his coffee.

"I just wish we could get another shot, y'know?" Blaine's facial expression went sad. He had desperately wanted to perform again. If not for him, then for his glee club. There wasn't anything he wanted more than for things to get back to how they used to be.

"If I were paying attention to what you just said, I'd probably hear something about missing your ragtag bunch of misfits parading around on stage making fools of themselves by tripping over each other's feet."

"That was Finn!" Blaine sharply defended, "He's not really our best dancer..."

"A team is only as good as it's worst player," Sebastian took a sip of his coffee, "Or something like that... anyway, Blaine, listen to me. I'm _sick and tired_ of this preppy schoolboy facade. It's time for a change."

"I'm not following..." Blaine furrowed his brows in a confused look.

"I've got a proposition." Sebastian slyly smirked, continuing with his idea, "What if I were to transfer to McKinley?"

"..."

"If I transfer, Dalton will have lost it's MVP—me—and they'll have no choice but to forfeit their position at Regionals over to the runners-up."

"But we still wouldn't be able to compete," Blaine played the realism card, "Aural Intensity won second, so they'd take over for the Warblers. Not the New Directions."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, expecting this negativity from Blaine, "I can promise you that I've personally handled Aural Intensity's competition situation. Blaine, when I make a plan, I actually _plan_ it out before I even think about executing it. I'm way ahead of you."

* * *

"_So all I have to do is break up my group, and you'll...have sex with me?"_

"_Exactly."_

* * *

"That's still kind of insane, don't you think?"

"Geez, for someone who wants his old group to win a championship, you sure at pessimistic. I'm giving you the opportunity of a life time here, Blaine." Sebastian's sinister smiled died down a little, "So now I ask; Deal? Or no deal?"

"Who's making a deal?" out of nowhere, the supposed 'sick' Kurt crept up from behind Blaine with curiosity written all over his face. He wasn't dressed in his usual attire, which let Blaine know he still hadn't been feeling good.

_He has to be sick to leave his house in sweats,_ Blaine thought to himself.

"Hello, Kurt." Sebastian threw on the uncaring smile he was so used to using to greet the jealousy ridden boyfriend. "Blaine's told me so much about you."

Kurt feigned a laugh, "Well that's funny, _my boyfriend_ has never mentioned-"

"Sebastian." Blaine filled in.

"Well, it's nice to finally put a name to a face, Kurt." Sebastian kept his eyes staring daggers through Kurt.

"I'm going to get another round—you want something, Kurt?" Blaine stood, giving his chair to Kurt. He needed to get away from those two as quickly as possible to relieve the tension he felt.

"You know my order." Kurt sat, keeping his eyes on Sebastian the entire time. Once Blaine was out of hearing range, Kurt began, "What are you doing here? You know Blaine's taken—by _me._"

"I'm just a friend, Kurt." Sebastian said, "And do you think you can really intimidate me with your precious little pasty face? _Please._"

"I'm not an idiot, Sebastian." Kurt spoke with twice the confidence he usually had when trying to intimidate someone, "I can see it in your eyes—you want something. You're not Blaine's friend just for the blazers and coffee breaks. You're the type of person who will stop at nothing to get what he wants, not caring who you hurt in the process."

"Wow," Sebastian chuckled, and just as quickly, he became serious, "You figured all of that out in less than a minute? Good for you. Usually, people are too late, and I've already gotten what I wanted."

"What exactly do you want, _Sebastian_?"

The Warbler glanced over to Blaine in the line. He smiled, then looked back a Kurt. Not blinking, holding a completely stiff tone, he replied, "Blaine."

* * *

"We better get an 'A' on this stupid thing," Falsetto walked side by side with Mike into their Science class on Monday morning. He held the Tesla Coil they had worked so hard on as she prepped the display board that had the lengthy procedure plastered all over it; complete with pictures. "I actually put in an effort—which I normally don't ever do."

"Don't worry, Falsetto," Mike assured, "We've got this in the bag."

"We better." Falsetto smiled at Mike, who she saw so much of Crescendo in as she sat. Her last therapeutic session had replayed in her mind. The lyrics to the song she sung in front of her imaginary stage played in her head,

"_...I still have something beautiful to give..."_

"Good morning, students," the bushy-haired teacher walked into the room with an equally messy folder in his hands. Before he could even look up to the class, he looked down to his grade book and said, "So, Falsetto, are we taking another zero?"

With attitude, she replied, "Nope."

"No?" the teacher looked up to see the perfect Tesla Coil in front of Mike and Falsetto. "Shocking. And I trust that Mr. Chang didn't do it all by himself?"

"No sir—she did her part."

"Great!" the teacher sat at his desk, "I'd love to see what you two have done."

"Mr. Aaron," Falsetto began in a half-joking tone, "With confidence, I'd like to state that our project is the best in the class—and not just because I had an Asian to work with. So why not save _the obvious best_ for last?"

"Cockiness with get you nowhere, Ms. Mariano."

"Confidence," she coughed, "Why not let Noah and my brother go first," she glanced over to the two boys making some last-minute readjustments to their project. "I'd love to see their potato...thing."

Mr. Aaron agreed. Noah and Crescendo went up to present their potato clock. For an obvious last-minute project, they did a surprisingly good job. But just as they started a demonstration, Falsetto turned to Mike, asking about the 'Tina situation'.

"Are you ever going to confront her about the supposed audition?" she asked, blunt as always.

"I was going to do it today, actually." Mike spoke nervously, unsure of his own words, "With your help, of course."

"Of course." Falsetto sighed, "But I'm not going to be holding your hand forever, Chang. You need to put on your big boy pants and crush her poor little karate chopping heart."

Falsetto ended the conversation then and there. Mostly because Mike had nothing else to say, but also because Mr. Aaron told them to be quiet while the other groups presented. In her mind, she harshly criticized each and every science project. By the time it was her and Mike's turn, to go up, the bell had rung. She was thankful because she'd rather be apart of some drama than present a project that bored her to tears.

Out in the hallway, Tina was already patiently waiting by Mike's locker so they could walk to lunch together, just as they'd done all year.

"Remember, get right to the point." Falsetto advised as they walked out of their science class together.

"Hi, Mike." Tina greeted as he and Falsetto stopped at his locker. They kissed, then she glanced to Falsetto with a worried expression, "What's she doing here?"

"Relax, girl Chang, I'm not trying to take him away from you, if that's what you're thinking—and I know it is. I'm just here as apart of my therapy."

"Therapy?" Tina questioned, then looked back to Mike, "Mike, what's she talking about?"

"Don't worry about her," Mike said, grabbing Tina's hands in his own. He looked down, swallowing whatever force that was stopping him from saying what he needed to say, "I know about your fake audition."

"What?" Tina put up a false front, "What are you talking about?"

"Tina stop, you're too smart to play dumb." Mike fought back tears coming to his eyes. He looked to Falsetto, who just nodded, then back to Tina, "I can't believe you would lie to me like that...it's over."

_Over, _Tina repeated in her mind,_ Over._ What had she gotten herself into? Why'd she lie? There was no point in lying. She didn't have to be anyone but herself with Mike. She messed this up, and now the walls were crashing down all around her. That stupid audition. Why didn't she just go?

"_I feel a separation coming on  
'Cause I know you want to be moving on  
I wish it would snow tonight  
You'd pull me in, avoid a fight  
'Cause I feel a separation coming on  
Just prove, that there's nothing left to try  
'Cause the truth, I'd rather we just both deny  
You kissed me with those open eyes  
It says so much, it's no surprise  
To you, but I've got something left inside..."_

The ever-familiar song of the Disney star played in her mind. The words seemed to have much more meaning to her life as she watched Mike walk down the hall with Falsetto. It was obvious they weren't together, otherwise Falsetto would've been all over Mike, but still. It hurt to see him walk away with another girl. Still standing by Mike's locker, completely speechless, the song continued in her mind,

"_...We were so in love back then,  
Now you're listening  
To what they say  
Don't go that way  
Remember, remember, December  
Please remember,  
Don't surrender..."_

* * *

"So, this is McKinley? It's... quaint."

"It's no Dalton, but it'll grow on you—it did on me."


	22. Back In Black

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Back In Black_

* * *

"Hello, everyone." None other than Blaine Anderson stood in the center of the brightly-lit choir room at McKinley High. Every former member of the New Directions occupied the room, save for Artie, of course. Santana and Brittany were close in the back row. Right beside them were Mike, Falsetto, Lauren, and Puck. In the second row, Rachel and Quinn sat together with Finn and Crescendo not too far away. The bottom set of chairs were home to Kurt, Mercedes and Tina. Mr Schue, and their pianist, Brad sat by the black piano that recreated so many musical numbers they had put on in the past couple of years. Blaine obviously went through a lot of trouble to get this meeting going, "I know that we're broken up, but I've got a way for us to compete at Regionals—but only if you're interested."

"Bribe the judges?" Santana sighed.

"Sleep with the female judge?" Puck asked. There was a hint of seriousness behind the question.

"No, none of that," Blaine replied, grinning from ear-to-ear, "I've got Dalton's secret weapon," with that minor introduction, Sebastian strutted into McKinley's choir room, _without_ his Dalton suit. Blaine seemed to be the only one applauding his appearance. The other members sat in confusion, wondering what the hell he was doing there.

An uncomfortable, and definitely jealous Kurt spoke out, "What's he doing here?"

"He looks like an Abercrombie model." Puck commented.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Sebastian ignored Kurt, as did everyone else, and just addressed Puck.

"Anyway," Blaine got back on track, "He was Dalton's star, and now that he's gone, they've forfeited their Regionals position to the New Directions!"

_Gasp._

"...All we have to do is reunite, and kick Vocal Adrenaline's ass!" He exclaimed with much vigor, but nobody seemed to share is excitement. Not yet, anyway.

"Look," Mercedes stood from her seat to address the entire club, "I'm all for being apart of the team, but we're not exactly in the best shape for competition. I mean, just look at us. Everything is all messed up. Mike started filming _So You Think You Can Dance _yesterday, Puck and Finn have started throwing slushies at freshman again, and Falsetto is living through an episode of _Intervention_. Face the music, Blaine, we're broken." she placed a hand on Blaine's shoulder, then returned to her seat next to Tina.

"I had a feeling you guys would be a little reluctant, which is why Sebastian and I prepared a duet, in hopes you guys would remember how much fun we used to have together... and hopefully change your minds."

Behind Kurt, a confused Crescendo watched as Blaine performed a breathtaking song with Sebastian, pretending Kurt wasn't even there. Even though Kurt had cheated on him, Crescendo still really cared. He had this protective mentality that sometimes annoyed Falsetto, but it did come in handy with his relationships. Without even thinking, he placed a sympathetic hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt looked up, and smiled at the gesture sent by his ex.

"Don't worry," Crescendo whispered into Kurt's ear, "It'll be okay."

Somehow, Kurt didn't think so.

* * *

"So, what do you think of Blaine's crazy comeback idea?" Later that day, Quinn and Rachel were sitting in the food court of Lima's Mall, having a chat during their lunch breaks. Quinn had finally gotten a job at Forever 21, which also happened to be her favorite store. And Rachel had been working at Game Stop. She persuaded the manager to hire her, so she could attract more customers with her looks. And it worked.

"Honestly, Quinn," Rachel replied, "I like it. Even though I may not be as Broadway-driven as I was before, I really do miss the music." Rachel stood, tossing her food in a nearby garbage can. She sat back down, and continued, "I know that we've all had our issues and fights, but no matter what, we're a family, and I just miss that."

"...and what about us?" Quinn croaked.

"Excuse me?"

"You know what I mean, Rachel," Quinn glanced around their surrounding area, making sure no one could've been listening in. Clear. "Valentine's Day." she paused, "It was a mistake, right?"

Rachel hesitated to answer. On the even of Valentine's Day, Quinn had given in to Rachel's strange method of seduction. She really missed Artie, and needed someone to be there. And Rachel was. The whole thing sort of just _happened_. No one knew about it beside the two of them, however. Quinn resented the decision ever since it happened. Rachel, on the other hand, hoped that it would become something more.

She knew she wasn't a lesbian. And she also knew that she didn't like girls. She didn't like _girls_. She just wanted Quinn. In her eyes, there was no other girl—no other _person_ for her. Finn, Blaine, Puck—the three of them meant close to nothing to her now. After her bad record with dating guys, she finally realized that maybe the _one_ she's been looking for was literally right in front of her all along.

"Right..." Rachel said, looking down at the table. "It—It was nothing."

Quinn got up from her seat to toss her garbage away. Once she was about to take her seat once more, Rachel stood. "Where's the fire?" Quinn asked.

"Our breaks are almost over," Rachel kept her eyes off of Quinn as she rushed by her, heading straight for Game Stop.

"Okay...?"

Back in Forever 21, Quinn couldn't help but keep Rachel's sad expression in the back of her mind. Why did she seem so upset in the first place? She was the one who wanted to _just_ hook up in the first place. Rachel didn't have anything to lose from the experience. Quinn did, however. Artie. During all of the months he'd be gone, Quinn promised herself that she wouldn't so much as even look at another guy, much less full-on cheat. But like Santana once said, it's not cheating since the plumbing is different, right?

Right?

_Shit, now I'm thinking with guilt?_ Quinn thought to herself as she organized shirts in the dressing room, getting them ready to be cleaned so they could be put back on display. _Oh boy, this day couldn't get any worse._

For the next couple of hours, she sold shirt after shirt; jeans after jeans; heels after heels. All to the usual customers, too. She got some teachers occasionally, and it was always strange to see them in 'normal' clothes.

It was almost closing time when she was approached by a question from a customer. _Oh, come on! I'm busy, go ask someone else_, she thought to herself as she folded jeans with her back turned to the needy customer.

"Do you have these jeans in a size smaller?" The customer asked, and their familiar voice sent waves of nostalgia through Quinn's mind.

At first, she just brushed off the voice with a "Give me a minute." but the person kept bugging her. Those must've been some important jeans.

"I really, _really_ need your assistance, Ms. Fabray." There went that voice again. It was such an ominous feeling for Quinn. She knew the voice, but her mind was in such a scramble that it couldn't quite match a face and a name to it.

"I said give me a—wait," she finally got it. "How do you know my name?" She dropped the last pair of jeans she needed to fold. She slowly turned, and her jaw dropped at the sight of her boyfriend—_Artie—_standing at eye-level. _Standing_. "Artie?" She stood completely breathless. He held his arms open, wanting to hug her so badly, but she was frozen.

"The one and only!" He grabbed her in a forceful hug. She didn't mind, however. She just succumbed to her long-gone boyfriend, and accepted the love.

"Artie..." she said once more in disbelief.

"I've missed you so much," Artie's voice dropped as his eyes filled up with tears of pure bliss.

"I can't believe you're back," Quinn sobbed, "It's been so long." she backed away from the hug, and the lovers' teary eyes locked on to one another for the first time in what felt like ages. They just stood their for a moment, trapped in their perfect piece of forever.

"Artie," Quinn broke the silence, "You're-"

"Standing?"

"Short—I mean, shorter than I expected." Quinn giggled, then threw her arms around his neck.

Artie maneuvered his hands around her to fit her waist as he said, "Is that a bad thing?" _swoon._

"No... it's kind of adorable." Quinn's smile stretched even further, which she didn't think was even possible. "And your clothes—Amsterdam's been good to you."

"Yeah," he smugly said, looking down at his white skinny jeans, black Vans sneakers, and black v-neck t-shirt. "I decided that the whole nerdy wardrobe should be gone with that damned chair."

"Well, I like it." Quinn simply said

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

The couple shred a much anticipated kiss, relieving all of the stress and loneliness from the past few months with their lips.

* * *

"I think Blaine's right, honestly." Artie paced back and forth in the choir room the following day. He was obviously making use of his new legs. "We should reunite for old time's sake. One of the reasons I was motivated to get these legs in the first place was so I could dance with you all at Regionals. After we lost Sectionals, I was only motivated by the thought of dancing with Quinn at prom,"

Everyone in the choir room shared an "Awww!"

"...And now that we have an opportunity to compete, I want us to take it!"

"Finally someone sees my coming here as a positive..." Sebastian muttered under his breath, directing his attitude toward Kurt, who was across the room.

"See, you guys?" Blaine stood from his seat beside Tina to address everyone, "We have to go and compete! If not for winning, then for Artie."

Quinn was the first to stand and agree, "For Artie," she said.

Then one after the other, each member of the New Directions stood from their seats, saying, "For Artie," except for Santana, who still referred to him as Stubbles. It was now a term of endearment, as opposed to an insult.

"Great," Artie's face lit up as everyone stood, "Now we just need a setlist!"


	23. Just Like Old Times

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Just Like Old Times_

* * *

"Kurt! Kurt, wait up!" A determined Rachel Berry chased after her fashionable friend in McKinley's empty halls. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and the big competition that Sebastian had granted to the New Directions was quickly approaching. The New Directions only needed to fill the duet position for their setlist, and she had it.

"Rachel," Kurt spoke, not bothering to turn around, "What is it? I'm late for my shift at the tire shop, and I can't have Finn taking over for me anymore. I need the money."

"Great!" she finally caught up to Kurt, "We can talk about it on the way."

Just moments later, the two were stuck in traffic. Rachel warned Kurt not to take the highway, but he didn't listen. In his experience, it was the quickest way to get to work from school, but today was just one of _those _days where everyone seemed to feel the need to drive somewhere.

"Great," Kurt sighed behind the wheel, "We _would_ be stuck in traffic. I don't suppose you want to have that chat now?"

Rachel's eyes, filled with anticipation, were glistening. She opened her mouth, and seriously said, "A duet."

Kurt raised an eyebrow with intrigue, "A duet? You and I?"

"Yes! Rumor has it that due to Mike being on _So You Think You Can Dance_, our entire Regionals performance is going to be on TV!" Rachel held back a squeal, and gave Kurt a few seconds to digest the incredible news she just handed to him, "You're the only person in the club that shares my dream, Kurt. You and I are untouchable, we-"

"Whoa," Kurt interrupted, "Slow down—you had me at duet."

* * *

_Thursday morning. McKinley's hall._

"I honestly can't thank you enough for helping us get back on track, Sebastian." Blaine placed a few books into his locker, and took one out. Sebastian stood by him, keeping that sassy smile he'd always have.

"Blaine," Sebastian spoke, "Like I said before, you don't have to thank me so much. And besides, you'll thank me later." Sebastian made sure no one in the club was passing through the hall as he spoke. A sly grin shot across his face before he whispered into Blaine's ear, "Whether you like it or not—and I know you do—you're already mine."

"Sebastian," Blaine put a hand up, expelling the words that came from the former Warbler. He had no intentions of ever being with him. Sebastian was just a friend, and now a fellow glee member in Blaine's eyes. If anything, their Warbler bond made them brothers. "Not to sound harsh or anything, but I'm not interested in you. You're just a friend. Sure, I sang that duet with you, and I've been super friendly, but that doesn't mean anything." Blaine stopped speaking once he caught a glimpse of his boyfriend's best friend staring at him from down the hall, "Look, I've got to go."

Blaine then hastily walked away from Sebastian to approach the diva at the end of the hall. He cringed under the pressure of her judging eyes.

"Mercedes," Blaine sighed.

"Save it, Blaine," She shot back, "Just tell me straight up; are you cheating on Kurt with Abercrombie over there?"

Baffled, Blaine said, "What—_no! _I would never!"

"Don't lie to me. I see the way you look at him. It's the exact same way you used to look at Kurt when he transferred here and you dropped Rachel for him."

"Mercedes," Blaine was much more calm now, "I can assure you that I'm not cheating, nor will I ever. I love Kurt more than anyone I've ever loved before—including Rachel."

Mercedes forced a smile, but she didn't buy it. As much as she wanted to believe he wouldn't cheat, she couldn't. She could see the fear in Blaine's eye whenever Sebastian was around. Of course, looking out for Kurt, she figured that the fear was the fear of cheating—for falling for someone else. But it was something entirely different.

Blaine feared Sebastian because of the way he was. Sebastian's the type of guy that would do whatever—_whoever—_to get what he wanted. And he made a perfect example of that when he told Blaine how he got Aural Intensity to split up. And that power was something that scared Blaine; made him uncomfortable even.

"Good." Mercedes spoke with an attitude, sending a shiver down his spine as he continued to walk down the hall to his next class.

* * *

_Santana's bedroom. Friday night._

"Kettle corn, or extra butter?" Santana smiled, standing in the doorway of her bedroom with two boxes of popcorn in her hands. Brittany was on the floor, sitting against the bed with a bunch of DVDs in her hand. Ever since Britts was kicked out by her parents, and she'd been living with Santana, they'd have stay-at-home dates every Friday. And this Friday happened to be a movie night.

"How about both?" Brittany smiled up at her girlfriend, "And we can mix them together. _Popcorn surprise_." she made a gesture with her hands, imitating fireworks. Santana giggled, then walked down to the kitchen to make the popcorn.

Since Christmas, all Brittany wanted was to be accepted by her mom. She just wanted to go back home—with Santana—and have her parents welcome the two with open arms. It's not that she didn't enjoy living at Santana's, because she did. Her parents were amazing, and so was she. But Brittany just missed home. Who wouldn't?

She finally chose the perfect DVD; _The Notebook_. Just as she popped the disc into the DVD player, her cell began to vibrate. She ignored it at first, thinking it was just a text message, but after it kept buzzing, she knew it was a phone call.

"H-hello?" she answered.

"Brittany?" a far too familiar voice chimed on the other end. "Brittany, honey, it's mom. Your father and I-"

"Why are you calling me?" Brittany could feel the past events just rushing back to her. There was no way in hell that she'd forgive her parents.

"Look, Brittany," She spoke much softer now, less abrasive, "Your father and I are really sorry for—for everything. We shouldn't have blown things out of proportion like that. Do you remember your uncle Thomas?"

Brittany complied, "Yeah, why?"

"Well, I don't know if you remember that tragic Thanksgiving, but he 'disappeared' from our family because of my parents. My parents didn't accept that kind of behavior-"

"Behavior? Please," Brittany grew tense, "Tell me what kind of _behavior_ you're talking about. I'd love to know!"

"You know what I mean!" Her mom fought back with equal attitude, "Growing up, your grandparents always taught us that being gay was wrong—that it was a sin. So when Thomas came out to everyone at Thanksgiving, well, that was just bad. Bad for him, bad for everyone."

"And what about me? I'm your _daughter._ You and dad raised me to be loving, compassionate, and accepting no matter what. So you two just look like a bunch of hippos trying to win me back after shutting me out." Brittany took a breath, and sat down on Santana's bed. She grasped the gold locket that she received for Christmas, opened it, and smiled at the picture of her and Santana inside. _I will always love you_, she read the quote on the side of the picture.

"Hippos? Sweetie, I think you mean _hypocrites_." Her mom corrected, "And you shouldn't be using that tone with me! I am your mother-"

"And I don't care!" Brittany shot up from Santana's bed, scolding the wall as if both her parents had been standing right there, "I'm your _daughter_ and you threw me out on the streets! Did you ever to even bother asking if I was okay or not? _No!_ All you care about is keeping up your stupid image so my grandparents won't shut you out of the family like they did to uncle Thomas. But just so you know, my life's great. Santana, my _girlfriend_, has been more than amazing, and her parents have shown me more love, compassion, and acceptance than the two of you have my entire life!"

Brittany's blood boiled. She couldn't think straight. It was like the world as she knew it just became more complicated than she thought possible. Her parents couldn't be serious, could they? There had to have been some sort of ulterior motive behind this sudden burst of acceptance. But she didn't buy it, not one bit. If they truly did accept her, they wouldn't have waited four months to say so. It just wasn't right.

"Brittany?" Santana walked into her room with a huge bowl of popcorn. She obviously heeded to Brittany's words when she told her to mix the two kinds of popcorn. It was simple gestures like that that made Brittany feel at peace living with Santana. "What's wrong? Are you crying?"

"No, I—yes." Britts walked over to Santana, and threw her arms around the girl.

Santana place the bowl of popcorn on her nearby nightstand, "What happened in the few minutes I was gone? You look like you just saw a ghost!"

"My mom," Brittany sighed, "She just called. They want me back."

"What?" Santana's jaw dropped. She shared the anger of abandonment with Brittany. They may not have been her parents, but she sure felt affected by their decision to act out on Brittany. "You can't be serious, can you?"

"Yeah, deadly." she backed away from the hug, and wiped a tear, "I say no, though. I don't ever want to go back to them. I never want to be away from you."

Santana smiled, not really wanting to ruin the moment by asking her to elaborate on the phone call. She simply locked pinkies, as they always did, and the two plopped onto Santana's bed. The movie played, and they began to eat the bowl of popcorn surprise, feeding each other once in a while.

"Britts?" Santana whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I love you _so_ much."

"I love you, too."

* * *

_Saturday morning. Regionals._

"And now, we welcome to our Ohio State Regional Show Choir Competition Stage—brought to you by the hit TV show, _So You Think You Can Dance, _broadcasted live on television—McKinley High's New Directions!"

The competition audience roared to life. Or created a riot. It was apparent that the New Directions had been a crowd favorite. The whole misfit 'thing' must've appealed to the show choir fans of Ohio. It took them a few moments to calm down, but when they did, the members of McKinley's glee club were revealed by the slowly raising curtain. Everyone, except for Kurt and Rachel, stood in the way back of the stage with their backs facing the audience. Kurt and Rachel stood at the front of the stage, each separated by a few feet. And each had their own mic and spotlight.

Kurt softly began his part of the duet,

"_Fade in on a girl  
With a hunger for fame,  
And a face and a name to remember.  
The past fades away  
Because as of this day,  
Norma Jean's gone.  
She's moving on_

_Her smile and your fantasies play a duet  
That will make you forget where you are.  
The music starts playing,  
It's the beat of her heart saying...  
Let me be your star..."_

Rachel sent a smile across the stage to Kurt. Their voices matched so perfectly together, and this song was perfect for them.

Rachel then sang,

"_...Flashback to a girl  
With a song in her heart,  
As she's waiting to start the adventure.  
The fire and drive  
That make dreams come alive  
They fill her soul.  
She's in control  
The drama, the laughter, the tears just like pearls-  
Well, they're all in this girl's repertoire.  
It's all for the taking,  
And it's magic we'll be making;  
Let me be your star..."_

After her part, the two removed the microphones from their stands, and sang to each other. They walked across the stage, singing the next few parts,

_"...[Both:]  
I'll just have to forget the hurt that came before,_

_[Kurt:]_  
_Forget what used to be._

_[Rachel:]_  
_The past is on the cutting room floor,_

_[Kurt:]_

_The future is here with me..."_

They wrapped their arms around each other, completely playing the audience. Everyone seemed to love it too, by the look in their eyes, and the two stars continued together,

"_...Choose me!  
Fade up on a star  
With it all in her sights...  
All the love and the lights  
That surround her.  
Someday she'll think twice  
Of the dues and the price..."_

Rachel then took a small solo portion, with Kurt echoing,

_"...She'll have to pay (She'll have to pay)  
But not today (But not today)..."_

Then, the two finished the song in perfect harmony,

_"...Then she'll do all she can  
For the love of one man,  
And for millions who look from afar.  
And what you've been needing  
Is all here in my heart, pleading...  
Let me be your star!"_

The audience went insane for the two. They didn't even need the assistance of the other members, and they made the audience go this wild.

"Wow," Kurt said, heavily panting along with Rachel, "They loved us."

A new beat began to play, and spotlights found the other New Directions members when they turned and walked forward, joining Rachel and Kurt at the forefoot of the stage.

Artie began singing once his queue came up,

"_For those days we felt like a mistake,  
Those times when loves what you hate,  
Somehow,  
We keep marching on..."_

Brittany then followed, dancing beside him,

"_...For those nights when I couldn't be there,  
I've made it harder to know that you know,  
That somehow,  
We'll keep moving on..."_

The entire club sang the chorus together, adding their own dance moves in their places to the beat,

"_...There's so many wars we fought,  
There's so many things were not,  
But with what we have,  
I promise you that,  
We're marching on,  
(We're marching on)  
(We're marching on)  
For all of the plans we've made,  
There isn't a flag I'd wave,  
Don't care if we bend,  
I'd sink us to swim,  
We're marching on,  
(We're marching on)  
(We're marching on)..."_

Falsetto then took over once the beat slowed. A single spotlight found her, and everyone watched in awe as she played the audience so well while singing the words from her heart,

"_...We'll have the days we break,  
And we'll have the scars to prove it,  
We'll have the bonds that we save,  
But we'll have the heart not to lose it..."_

Then she and Blaine harmonized,

"_...For all of the times we've stopped,  
For all of the things I'm not..."_

And the New Directions sung together, allowing the lights to find each member individually on the stage,

"_...We put one foot in front of the other,  
We move like we ain't got no other,  
We go when we go,  
We're marching on..."_


	24. Empire State Of Mind

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Empire State Of Mind_

* * *

The Monday morning after Regionals was indeed a bright one. Nothing but good vibes roamed the halls of McKinley High. The most obvious reason for this was because of the skyscraper of a trophy sitting in the center of the choir room. When the New Directions had come back with that mammoth, each and every student watched in awe. No one tried to throw slushies, and there were not attempts to slam any of them into lockers. They _finally_ had the residents of McKinley eating out of their hands, and they loved it.

"We won," Blaine was the first to break the silence in the choir room that morning.

"No, Blaine," Santana spoke, "We didn't just win. We completely freaking dominated okay? We made all those other show choirs into our little bitches! They didn't stand a chance in hell."

"Yeah," Tina began, "Thanks to that breathtaking duet from Kurt and—where's Rachel?"

Everyone glanced around the room.

"Kurt?" Mercedes asked.

"I haven't seen her all morning." he replied.

"That's strange," Finn added, "She's never not been here..."

"I'm sure she'll show up sooner or later," Artie joined.

"_**KURT!**_"

"Thar she blows..." Santana commented under her breath.

Rachel stormed into the choir room with a mass of energy. She practically brought the walls down with her bellow. Kurt stood speechless. He grabbed his bag, and left the choir room with Rachel in a trance. Rachel stopped her stampede in the hall way just before her locker.

"Rachel!" Kurt called, "Rachel!"

She snapped out of her concentration, and a smile stretched from ear to ear as she embraced Kurt.

"Rachel, what the hell? You stormed into the choir room like you wanted to huff and puff and bow it down, and now you're squeezing the life out of me!" Kurt panicked, squirming his way out of Rachel's grip.

"Fame," she simply said, "Fame, Kurt!"

"Come again?" he said, fixing his shirt back to normal after her death grip.

"We're—you and I—are going to be _famous!_"

"Yeah, obviously. Broadway is awaiting us after we get our diplomas in a few months," Kurt smiled as he envisioned himself getting a standing ovation at the famous Gershwin theater.

"No, Kurt," Rachel tuned him back into reality, "I mean right here, and right now."

"What?"

"There was this man named Indigo Carter at Regionals on Saturday, and he _loved_ our performance!" Rachel squealed, thinking Kurt got the message. He didn't.

"Okay, so? Who is he?"

"Seriously, Kurt?" Rachel sighed, bringing him closer, so she could whisper, "he's taking on _Wicked: The Movie_, and he wants us to be in it! I mean, of course he has to go through the whole auditioning process with the casting director, and then the producers and-"

"Rachel!" Kurt shouted, getting her to stop the rambling, "What in the world are you talking about? Wicked? How does that benefit me? The leads are female, and I am _not _playing Fiyero. I don't look good in straw and overalls."

"That's the thing, Kurt!" Rachel's grin nearly broke skin, "He's thinking of reworking the script so that you'll play _Glenn_ instead of _Glinda_."

"And how do you know that this isn't a scam?" Kurt brought reality down on her like a sledgehammer, but that didn't stop her from squealing again with excitement.

"You don't think I thought of that?" Rachel dug into her pocket, and grabbed a card. A business card. She handed it to Kurt, and while he read the multiple telephone numbers on the card, Rachel continued, "I've called all of the contacts on that card, and my dads even did a background check to make sure he's legit. But of course, he requested that we audition with solo songs this afternoon just to make sure we're the ones he's been looking for."

A smile finally grew on Kurt's face as he looked into Rachel's eyes.

"This is real, Kurt. This is happening."

* * *

_Monday. Noon. McKinley's cafeteria._

"You're leaving...to LA... to dance?" Falsetto repeated what Mike Chang had just told her for confirmation. She gnawed on a baby carrot, trying to make sense of the situation, but it didn't compute in her brain.

"Yes, Falsetto, for the last time," Mike sighed, "I'm leaving for the show. I don't know how many times I have to say it for you to understand."

"Oh, I understand perfectly fine! You're my one and only friend, and you're leaving me to go dance all around California, while I'm here, struggling with a drug addiction, and a crippling depression! Is that any way to treat a lady?" she spoke in a painfully sarcastic manner.

"You're overreacting, Falsetto." Mike sighed, "I won't be gone for that long, and besides, you have a bunch of other friends, don't you?"

Falsetto hesitated to answer, "I—I have Britts and Santana, but-"

"Exactly!" Mike cut her off, "Give them a call, I'm sure they'll love to take my place while I'm gone."

"But it's not the same," Falsetto pleaded, "I like being around you more, though. You make me feel safe—you're like my GBFF, but y'know, without the G."

Mike finished his burger, and shot a confused look at her, "I'm your what...?"

"Nothing," she changed subject, "Nevermind. Just please stay? You belong here."

"I don't think my destiny is sitting in McKinley's cafeteria."

"Not here in this shitty school," Falsetto got her attitude back, "I mean here, with me—with the New Directions. It isn't like me to show my emotional side, but I'll really miss you, Mike. And not to mention Artie; weren't you teaching him some dance skills?" she paused, giving Mike some time to change his mind. She desperately wanted him to.

The truth was, she may have been friends with Brittany and Santana, but it didn't seem so much like it anymore. Ever since Brittany moved in with the Lopez family, the two of them have been distant. Falsetto needed someone to be there for her. While Crescendo may have seemed like the obvious choice, she didn't want to dump her problems on him all the time. He acted like it was okay, and he was fine with helping her, but that was just the brotherly thing to do.

"And Nationals," she began again, "It's in Miami this year, and we need you."

Mike was just about to stand up to toss the scraps of food in the trash, he sat back down, and placed a hand on Falsetto's forehead. "Are you alright?" he said, "Is Falsetto still in there?"

Now forgetting about the sentimentals, she snapped back, "Of course I'm here, wide-screen!"

"Ah, there she is." Mike chuckled.

With sincerity, Falsetto spoke once more, "Just stay—for me?"

"I'm sorry, Setto, but I've got to go."

* * *

_Monday afternoon. McKinley's auditorium._

"My name is Kurt Hummel, and I will be auditioning with the _amazing_ Michael Bolton hit, _Go The Distance_."

Kurt stood on the pitch black stage in McKinley's auditorium all alone. Nothing but a single spotlight and a microphone kept him company. He looked out into the audience, only to see a single man. Indigo Carter. The famed director of _Wicked: The Movie_ sat in the front row, ready to listen to Kurt grace his ears once more. Back at Regionals, he was completely enchanted by the duet put on by Kurt and Rachel. Now, he got to here them sing without all the cheering going on behind him.

"Before you start, Kurt," Indigo said. His deep voice made the hairs on the back of Kurt's neck stand up. The man had dark skin, and a buzz cut. Kurt deducted that he must've been in the army, judging by his rough hands, and extremely muscular body—not that he was looking. "I need you to answer one question for me."

"Sure, anything," Kurt eagerly responded.

"What do you think of Rachel Berry?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your friend, Rachel," Indigo casually said, "What do you think of her? Do you think she deserves to be a star? Do you think she has what it takes to make this movie a hit?"

"With all due respect, Mr. Carter, sir, Rachel deserves this more than anyone." Kurt began, "Just like the song said, she's got _the fire and drive that make dreams come alive_. I don't think there's anyone else in the world that wants—scratch that—craves this more than she does. Not even me."

"Hm." Indigo didn't say much else. He just brought a hand up to scratch his head, "I'd like do hear you sing now."

"Oh—of course!" Kurt smiled, then started,

"_I have often dreamed, of a far off place  
Where a hero's welcome, would be waiting for me  
Where the crowds will cheer, when they see my face  
And a voice keeps saying, this is where I'm meant to be..."_

Indigo's face lit up in his seat. He leaned forward, hoping to get a better view, but being in the first row was as best as is was going to get. Well, unless he got right up on the stage with Kurt.

"_...I'll be there someday, I can go the distance  
I will find my way, if I can be strong  
I know every mile, will be worth my while  
When I go the distance, I'll be right where I belong..._

…

_But to look beyond the glory is the hardest part  
For a hero's strength is measured by his heart  
Like a shooting star, I will go the distance  
I will search the world, I will face its' harms  
I don't care how far, I can go the distance  
Till I find my hero's welcome, waiting in your arms  
I will search the world, I will face its harms  
Till I find my hero's welcome, waiting in your arms..."_

Kurt finished the song with a bang. Indigo gave a standing ovation, and if there was an actual crowd, they would've joined in on the applause.

"Very, _very,_ good!" Indigo said, "I've definitely come to the right man."

"I—thank you so much!"

"No, thank you!" Indigo jumped up on the stage and shook Kurt's hand, "I think it's about time the world has gotten a strong and confident gay male lead, don't you?"

"Couldn't have said it better myself."

* * *

A/N:: yeah, Rachel auditioned after that. I was just too lazy to write her part. But they both get the parts, so don't worry. Besides, Elphaba and _Glenn_ ARE theirs, aren't they? ;)


	25. 99 Problems

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_99 Problems_

* * *

"New York City," Rachel sat beside Kurt in a long, black limousine paid for by the studio in which _Wicked: The Movie _was being produced. She was wearing her iconic replica of the coat that Barbra Streisand wore as Fanny Bryce in _Funny Girl_ when she reminisced about her past. It seemed appropriate to her situation—as she was finally achieving her dreams. It may not have been Broadway, but it _was_ New York _and_ a Broadway play being adapted into a movie.

She sat by Kurt's side, relaxed and content. Content with life, their new job, and just the bright lights of the city around her.

* * *

"The Cheerios, maybe?"

"Cres, you know I'm not athletic in the slightest. I'd bust my ass trying to do a cartwheel and you know it."

"You're really flexible, maybe you can use that to your advantage?" Crescendo suggested to his younger sister on a dreary Monday morning at their lunch table. Since Mike left, Crescendo gladly filled in his position as her GBFF, and the G actually had a place in the acronym with him.

"My flexibility is best put to use in other... situations." Falsetto lightly chuckled, and tossed a fry at her brother.

"Eww!" Cres threw one back.

"You're the one that brought it up!"

The twins shared a smile. As of yet, they'd both been feeling down. Falsetto felt that way because Mike had left to LA, no matter how much she begged him. But she couldn't be mad at him. Dancing was his dream, and that show opened up so many doors for him. He had become her closest friend in such a short amount of time. Not counting Brittany and Santana, he was her _only_ friend. What started out as a simple therapeutic exercise turned out to be a great friendship. And that was now pretty much over. As much as either of them denied it, they knew that distance would slowly tear them apart.

And as for Crescendo, he began feeling down the second Kurt auditioned for Indigo to be in _Wicked: The Movie_. Although he and Kurt hadn't been on speaking terms after the break up, Crescendo somehow felt at peace with Kurt around. He loved him. And now, that balance was disrupted. He wouldn't see Kurt's smiling face in the halls anymore, nor would he get to hear his singing voice without begging, or having to buy a DVD copy for the movie that hadn't even been filmed yet. In other words, he felt as though he'd never see Kurt again.

"I'm just saying that you should join cheerleading. I bet Britts and Santana could pull some strings with coach Sylvester, even if you're bad."

"Thanks for the boost of confidence, Cres. Really helpful." she spoke, giving her brother the death glare, "And what about you? Say I do make it into the Cheerios? I'll be happy, and you'll still be mourning over being without your porcelain doll. Crescendo, as much as we may fight, I hate when you're sad. It's disheartening."

Crescendo's face lit up at the thought of the upcoming news he was going to announce, "I'll be fine, promise."

"Why are you smiling so weird? You look like a monkey that just flung its poop at some kid at the zoo."

"Funny." Crescendo laughed along with her, "Finn and Puck are starting a band, and they need a lead singer."

"A lead singer as in, my big brother?" Falsetto smiled, happy for him.

"I'll even give you my autograph!" He teased, making small attempts to make her smile, and it eventually worked.

"Fine." she said.

"Fine?"

"Fine, I'll try out for the Cheerios."

The siblings shared a smile, and hugged over the table. This is exactly what they needed—each other.

* * *

"For the last time, Sebastian, I'm devoted to Kurt," Blaine squinted his eyes due to the dim lighting of Sebastian Smythe's surprisingly clean bedroom. Blaine had always thought his room—his house—would be a huge mess. By the way he carried himself, Sebastian just seemed _dirty_ to Blaine. But he had no choice but to work with the sleazy boy on a duet they'd be singing at Nationals, as apart of the deal Sebastian made when he transferred. "I'm flattered, I really am, but I'm just not that into you."

Blaine began to gather his sheet music, readying himself to leave.

"Blaine—Blaine, where are you going?" Sebastian called out to Blaine as he left the room, "We have to work on our Nationals duet. I don't think you want to lose..."

Blaine stopped. Of course he didn't want to lose. But he couldn't stand being around Sebastian anymore. He was too forceful and grabby. Blaine had never felt so violated by someone's gaze before.

"Of course I don't," Blaine said, "But-"

"But nothing, Blaine! You need to get your pretty little bowtie-wearing self back here. We have a duet to rehearse."

"Sebastian, I don't know what kind of guy you think I am, but I can't stay here," Blaine stopped his storming out, and turned to the boy, "To be quite honest, you make me super uncomfortable, and I can't shake the feeling the feeling that I'm inhaling so much bacteria but just being around you!" Blaine turned around, heading for the door once more. "You have a …. lovely home. Tell your parents I said goodnight."

"Oh, you're not going _anywhere!_"

Something in Sebastian's mind switched off. His usual smirk had disappeared, and he now had a darkness in his eyes. Not really knowing what was going on, he forcefully went for Blaine's wrist. Being held against his will, Blaine tried screaming, and struggled to get loose, but Sebastian's grip was surprisingly tight. Sebastian shoved him against the door, and took over his body. Blaine could feel a hand creeping up his thigh, and still tried fighting back. Nothing.

"Sebastian, stop... I... no!" Blaine managed to shout in between forced kisses. His struggle continued, even trying to bite Sebastian's lips. But he soon found out that nothing seemed to work. Their bodies were so close, Blaine could feel his growing erection pressed up against his body.

"Kinky, I like it!" With one hand, Sebastian managed to unbuckle Blaine's belt. The jeans he'd been wearing weren't skin tight, so they dropped almost instantaneously. "Nice." Sebastian muttered.

Before he knew it, Blaine was being thrown onto Sebastian's messy bed in the center of his room. The lights were off now, and all Blaine could feel were Sebastian's sweaty palms all over Kurt's property. The smell in the air reeked of Sebastian's body odor and cheap cologne.

"Damn, Blaine, you're so..." Sebastian had Blaine slouched over, forcing himself inside of Blaine, with his face drowning in the pillow.

Blaine's eyes were red with tears and pain. He bit his lips, trying to suppress it, but he could still feel Sebastian's cold touch. All he thought of now was Kurt. Kurt was the blinding light in the shadows of the muggy room. He knew that if Kurt was physically there, Sebastian would be dead if he even placed a hand on him. But sadly, Kurt wasn't thee. And he had to endure the pain alone. Blaine knew now that Kurt was right to be jealous and possessive. How could he not have seen the threat before? If this is what Sebastian wanted all along, he'd have to live with the regret of not listening to Kurt.

* * *

"For not being a morning person, you're sure up early!" Rachel crept into the brightly-lit kitchen of her and Kurt's Lower East Side apartment. He sat at their glass table, gripping his gold-painted coffee mug in an unsettling way. Rachel noticed. "What's the matter?"

He didn't answer immediately. For a moment, he just stared blankly into space with a nervous posture. Rachel stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Kurt.."

He jumped at Rachel's contact with him, making her flinch as well. "Rachel," he said in a soft tone. Not only was it softer than his usual tone, but it was filled with uncertainty.

"You're upset, Kurt. I can see it in your eyes; what's going on?" Rachel pulled a chair next to him, and sat close.

"Blaine." Kurt still kept his gaze in his coffee mug, "he called me in the middle of the night, and—I don't know, maybe I'm just worrying too much." he finally raised the mug to his lips to drink.

"What'd he say?"

"He didn't say much, but I know that he wanted to. The way he spoke; his voice was trembling. I don't think I've ever heard him like that before. It was like I could feel his pain—his fear," he turned to face Rachel, "Is that weird?"

"No, not at all," she replied, "You two are in love. It's natural. What did he say, anyway?"

"Just my name—he said I was right..."

"Right about what?"

"That's what's getting me. He didn't say, and it's freaking me out."

"Kurt, I'm sure he's fine. You worry way too much."

"I know—It sucks." they both shared a laugh. A few more minutes of small talk about their new lives in New York went by, and through coffee and laughs, the issues with Blaine was easily buried.

"We should get ready," Rachel said, "Our first read-through of the script is in an hour."

* * *

A drum-set, two guitars, an amp, and two microphones made home in Noah Puckerman's garage. Finn sat behind the drum-set, adjusting the cymbals to his liking. "Dude," he spoke out, "I don't think anyone's coming."

Puck, who was tuning one of the two guitars responded, "What about that music dude—Crescent roll, or something?"

"You mean _Crescendo_." Finn corrected.

"Right, him. Didn't he say he was going to check out our sound?"

"Maybe he was too busy?" Finn stepped away from the drums, and walked just outside the garage to see if anyone was around. The street was completely deserted.

"All I know is, if nobody shows up within the next half-hour, I'm just going to sing lead myself." Puck finished tuning the first guitar and moved on to the second.

And so they waited. And waited. And waited. It was nearly 8 pm, and Puck was ready to pack everything up. He hadn't 'cleaned a pool' in almost a month, and he was dying to get one done.

Five more minutes.

"Well, no one's coming. Let's call it a-"

"Finn? Noah?" the newest member of the New Directions walked into the garage. His clothes were messy—as usual—and he had a glow that illuminated the room.

"Abercrombie?" Puck raised a brow, "Dude, you look like you just got laid!"

"Yeah," Sebastian said, testing one of the mics, "Something like that."

"So," Finn said, "Why are you here—I mean no offense or anything, but we don't really know you that well..."

"I heard about you guys' little band. I want in."

"Oh," Finn shot a surprised look at the boy, "Well, then I guess you've come to the right place."

"Obviously." he snared.

"Whatever," Puck intervened, "What songs do you know?"

"Anything Katy Perry?" Smythe said.

"No," Finn replied.

"Gaga?"

"Nope."

"Come on, seriously-"

"Hey, guys, sorry I'm late, I—Sebastian?" Crescendo hastily walked into the garage, only to see his position as lead singer on the ropes, "What're you doing here?"

"Crescendo," Sebastian put on a condescending tone, "Nice to see you've come to sing back up to me."

"Excuse me?" the tan boy glanced at Finn and Puck, who both bore confused expressions.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is that not why you're here?" Sebastian continued, with attitude.

"No," Crescendo spoke with dominance, "I'm here for the lead."

"That's funny, do you really think you can out-do me?"

"I don't _think_ I can. I _know_ I can."

"Only one way to find out."

"Right here."

"Right now."

* * *

"Falsetto, what the hell are you doing?" A furious Sue Sylvester asked one Thursday afternoon in the gym of McKinley High.

"I um... was hoping to join the Cheerios." she staggered on her words. Being intimidated was definitely not a feeling Falsetto felt before. She'd always been the one to scare others.

"With those moves?" Sue asked again, being sarcastic.

"I—yes?"

"You know what, high-note, I'm going to give this to you as nice as I possibly can." Sue cleared her throat, and handed her glasses to her sidekick, Becky Jackson, who sat beside her. "You deserve a scholarship tot he Ivy League clown college of South African prime-apes. You were flailing around just now as if you were being exorcised on a stripping pole. Seriously, what kind of medication are you taking to make you simulate an insane person having a seizure during a Magnitude seven earthquake? You embarrassed yourself far worse than I ever thought humanly possible."

"You suck." Becky added a snide comment.

"But Ms. Sylvester, I-"

"Get the hell out of my gym!"


	26. Relapse

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Relapse_

* * *

"And don't forget you eat, you're far too thin!"

"Okay, mom-"

"And wake up Crescendo, he's out like a light!"

"Don't worry, I-"

"I love you, dear, don't be late for school!"

"We'll be fine. I can handle myself, and so can Cres. Don't worry so much."

"I just—It's hard leaving you kids all the time." the mother of the twins, Diane, slowed down from her rush to leave the house for her flight, and said, "This will be the longest I've been gone, and I worry about you two. I won't be back until the end of June, and I just want to make sure that I can trust you two not to blow up the house in my absence."

"Crescendo will have my head before that happens," Falsetto joked. Just then, during their mother-daughter bonding moment, the taxi cab driver outside honked the horn, making himself known.

"I guess that's my queue." Diane's tone became sad. She loved being a dancer just as much as she loved being a mother. This time, she would be touring with Madonna as apart of her comeback. She hated saying goodbye to her twins just as much as she loved touring all around the world. "I love you, be good, and-" she quickly got back into her rush at the sound of the honking outside.

"Mom!" Falsetto calmed her down a bit.

"Sorry, sorry." Diane quickly hugged her daughter, "I love you."

Falsetto replied with the same sincerity, "I love you, too, mom."

The impatient taxi driver just outside their house honked again. Diane was reluctant to leave, but she had to. Someone had to pay rent, and it was tough getting a 'real' job in Ohio. After their final goodbye, Falsetto rushed up to Crescendo's room to wake him up. He was a heavy sleeper, so she practically had to throw him out of bed. By the time he was up and in the shower, Falsetto had realized something.

The realization of loneliness had finally hit her. And it hit hard. She may have had Crescendo, but how long would that last? It would only be a matter of time before he got fed up with her issues, and bailed on her—like everyone else. This was the same bitter feeling that drove her mad in the first place.

She and Crescendo had been only fourteen at the time, but it still happened. It was around the same time that their father abandoned them to be with a woman he cheated on their mother for. Diane began dancing again, so she was barely around. And Crescendo had gotten his first boyfriend, so he was always busy. So it was just Falsetto and her lonesome.

No one seemed to notice the growing number of scars on her wrist, or the fact that she never seemed to have any friends. She'd even face harsh times on the internet. Girls at their school would make fun of her because of her weight. She wasn't the biggest girl in the school, but she was definitely bigger than most.

So she turned to alcohol. She drank to the point where she'd vomit all the time, causing her to shed some weight. The alcohol also caused her to act out in school. She went into a full rebellion, and got into fights almost every single day with people who so much as glanced at her the wrong way. Truth be told, she lost a couple pounds, and thought she was a queen.

But she wasn't. Not in her mind, anyway.

She still felt ugly on the inside. She wanted to feel pretty, and that's when the drugs came. She met an older guy named Kyle, who promised her the world. But that was a lot to promise in a bag of white powder. Falsetto only started doing it because she felt cool. She felt like she was apart of something bigger than herself.

Eventually, with the help of Crescendo, she got better. After losing all that weight, she gained some back, but not to the point where she felt disgusted with her body. Not too big, and not too thin. By the time she fully recovered, it was her and Crescendo's 16th birthday, and they moved to Lima, Ohio. Crescendo had convinced her she could reinvent herself, and she tried so hard to. Joining glee club was supposed to be a new beginning for the two. But what no one told them is that history often repeats itself, and the past was coming back faster than expected.

Now, waking into the kitchen, she immediately took the tea kettle off of the stove, not wanting it to boil to hot. Peppermint tea had been a substitute for the drugs when she first got off of them, and now it was a daily thing. Diane had laid out her favorite pink mug, a few sugar packets, and a peppermint teabag before she left.

"She knows me way too well," Falsetto said to herself. She sighed as she poured the piping hot water into the mug, and mixed together the sugar along with dipping the teabag into the water. A quick glance to the left was all it took for her to change her mind about the tea.

To her left, was her mom's wine cabinet. She trotted over, grabbed the bottle at the very top; it was grape, her favorite flavor. As much as she wanted to fight it, she couldn't get rid of the urge to drink. The euphoric feeling she felt afterward had been overpowering.

"I'm better than that noodle-haired dyke," She said, her voice growing with anger as if she were facing Sue Sylvester herself, "Her and her retard of a clone will regret not letting me into that damn club."

And the first shot was taken.

* * *

"Is everyone here?" Mr. Schue stood in his usual position in front of the New Directions in the choir room, "Are we ready to start our _Female Music Appreciation_ week?" Schuester energetically fist pumped, "This week is female music, and next is male—who's got something prepared?"

"Mr. Schue," Tina spoke out, "Blaine's gone... again."

"So is that rodent, Sebastian," Santana began, "You know, I never liked him. Too much bitch, not enough gay. And _bitch_ is my flavor. I _owns_ that trait."

"Maybe they're making baby dolphins together?" Brittany wondered.

Mr. Schue shot her a confused look, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh come on," Santana filled in for Britts, "Even you can't be that oblivious! It's totally obvious that they've got something going on. When that Meerkat transferred, you could practically smell the sexual frustration in the air."

"Well," Mr. Schue dismissed his thoughts, "Can I count on you two to deliver the news to them?"

"Of course," Santana grinned, "I'd love to see what kinds of kinky things those prep-school boys are up to. Right, Britt-Britt?"

"Totally."

"Okay, getting back on track," Mr. Schue said, "If anyone's got a song already in their repertoire, feel free to take the floor." the teacher relieved himself of the position on the floor, so someone else could step up.

"Mr. Schue," Falsetto croaked, "I'd like to try something."

The girl staggered out of her seat, and that posture was all too familiar to Crescendo. He sat back in his seat, hoping his worst thoughts weren't about to come to life.

"_I don't wanna be the girl who laughs the loudest  
Or the girl who never wants to be alone  
I don't wanna be that call at 4 o'clock in the morning  
'Cos I'm the only one you know in the world that won't be home  
Ah the sun is blinding  
I stayed up again  
Oh, I am finding  
That's not the way I want my story to end..."_

Falsetto sang softly, careful not to overexert herself and become lightheaded. Crescendo kept a close eye on her groggy eyes as she continued,

"_...I'm safe  
Up high  
Nothing can touch me  
But why do I feel this party's over?  
No pain  
Inside  
You're my protection  
How do I feel this good sober?  
I don't wanna be the girl who has to fill the silence  
The quiet scares me 'cause it screams the truth  
Please don't tell me that we had that conversation  
I won't remember, save your breath, 'cos what's the use...?"_

Then, it happened. Everything Crescendo was thinking of just manifested itself in the choir room. Falsetto was on her knees, upchucking everything she'd eaten in the past few hours. Once everything was out of her system, her eyes rolled back, and she fell over.

"Setto!" Crescendo called out, rushing to his sister's aid. He lifted her off the ground, and smacked her cheeks a few times, "Wake up—Setto, wake up!" but it was no use. She was completely knocked out.

"Take her to the nurse!" Mr. Schue's words flashed through his mind. Without hesitation, he listened to the show choir director.

Crescendo threw his passed out sister over his shoulder, and made a beeline for the nurse's office.

* * *

Later in the day, Brittany and Santana had went to visit Blaine, just like they agreed. Pulling in to the garage, Santana looked at the extravagant house with awe, "So he really _is_ a preppy rich kid! I wonder what the inside looks like." Both she and Brittany stepped out of her jet-black card, and approached the pseudo-mansion.

"It probably looks like a castle." Brittany said.

"Yeah, or a horror movie."

Other than the size, the house was pretty normal. Green grass, a paved walkway, and a wooden door. Pretty normal.

"Are you going to knock?" Brittany felt compelled to ask, as they had just been standing in front of the door for a few minutes.

"I'm scared—what if his parents open the door and they're some snobby freaks?" Santana paused, "I'll go all Lima Heights on them, and Blaine will hate me."

"That won't happen, I'm sure his parents are cool," Brittany suggested, but Santana still didn't want to knock, "Fine, I'll do it."

Almost instantaneously, the door creaked open. A woman with a short, dark brown hair-do answered the door. She had bright red lipstick, and a black dress. She must've been going out.

"Oh, hello..." she said to the girls.

"Hi, I'm Brittany, and this is Santana—we're friends of Blaine's."

"Oh," The woman's confused face turned into a happy expression, "I didn't know Blaine was expecting company."

"He isn't," Santana said, "We're paying him a surprise visit, Mrs. Anderson."

"Oh, please," Blaine's mother moved to the side, opening the door for the girls to walk inside the house, "Mrs. Anderson is my mother, call me Jessica!" she laughed, having every right to. She didn't look a day over thirty, and her slim figure really made an impression.

* * *

"Mom isn't even gone for a whole day yet, and you're already drinking?" Crescendo scolded Falsetto in the night of their home, "Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me?"

"Cres," Falsetto pleaded, "for the last time, I'm sorry! How many times do I have to say it?"

"Until you mean it!" He paced back and forth in front of her, trying to form a sentence with all of his anger. His nostrils flared, veins bulged, and eyes widened as he said, "I'm sick and tired of always having to clean up _your_ messes! I usually take care of you—and I have no problem with it—but you're becoming so hopeless, Falsetto. Hopeless."


	27. Crash My Party

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Crash My Party_

* * *

"With Rachel and Kurt off in the big city, and Blaine being MIA, we're down to eleven members," Mr. Schuester paced back and forth in the choir room, rubbing his chin, "Not to mention that Sebastian has also seemed to disappear, which makes ten members."

"Kurt and Rachel aren't coming back until graduation, so we can rule them out," Tina sighed.

"And Blaine?" Mr. Schue directed his attention to Brittany and Santana, "Didn't you two go to see him?"

"He said he'd be in glee today," Brittany began.

"But we haven't seen him, except for our third class together." Santana added, "And surprisingly enough, he and Sebastian aren't dating behind Kurt's back. Go figure."

Just then, the very tortured soul they'd been discussing walked into the choir room. His hair wasn't gelled, and his curls shot in all kinds of directions. He had a slouched over posture, with his droopy eyes to match. He also wasn't wearing his usual bowtie and ankle pants. He wore sweats and a t-shirt. It was definitely a strange sight.

"Blaine, what the hell?" Santana said, "You look like you just lost a fight against a pit bull."

"Santana," Mercedes scolded, "Shut the hell up, he's obviously not feeling well."

"Can we just sing and get on with our lives?" Blaine plopped down in a seat beside Falsetto, who shared the same distressed look on her face, "I'm not really in the mood for you guys' melodramatic garbage."

Schuester stumbled to get his words together. Once he thought he had them all settled, and was about to announce the next order of business, Sebastian strutted into the choir room as if he were America's Next Top Model.

"Oh, God." Blaine muttered under his breath, making a face of disgust.

Lauren, who was sitting behind Blaine, asked, "What's wrong, Anderson?"

But before he could answer, Mr. Schue beamed, "Sebastian, where have you been?"

The former Warbler giggled, tugging at his collar before he could answer, "Excuse me? Is there something I did wrong?"

"Sebastian," Artie began, "You haven't been to a meeting in two weeks, and you show up here like you own the place!"

"Yeah," Quinn agreed, "It isn't right."

"I'll be damned if I listen to a Paris Hilton clone and Stephen Hawking," Sebastian glared, "As a matter of fact, I shouldn't be taking any crap from any of you. I brought you pathetic losers back on the competition scene. Had it not been for be, you all would be wandering these halls, sad and alone, living vicariously through your sappy little glee memories!"

There was no need for words. It had been written all over each glee clubbers' face. If they didn't hate him before, they sure as hell did now.

"Oh, my dear twink," Santana stood, getting into Sebastian's face, "You're delusional. Maybe you've been blinded by all of the molten semen produced by the rusted old janitors at Dalton, or maybe you're just a complete moron; I would know, I'd rather not take a peek at your life in fear of contracting AIDS." Santana was just getting to begin her long-awaited onslaught of insults at the boy.

"Can you get to the point, rock-boobs, I've got somewhere to be."

"Oh, I'm sure you're customers can just wait on the corner." Santana was quick with the insults. Everyone in the choir room laughed when Sebastian couldn't think of a comeback. And without stating his exit, he just left in defeat.

"Wow, Santana." Quinn sat shocked.

"I don't think we've ever seen you so vicious," Artie added.

"Yeah, well," She turned to face the group, "I was _raised_ on insults. It's kinda my thing."

* * *

"Finn, Crescent Roll," Puck began, standing in his garage with his new band members, "I've called this emergency meeting of _The Sex Lords_ because we need to help out our club."

"Sex Lords? Crescendo asked, confused.

"Clever, ain't it? When we start playing, we'll have all of the ladies swooning over us," Puck grinned.

"You know I'm gay... right?"

"So?" Puck spoke indifferently, "Chicks dig gay dudes. And if we're lucky, we'll even get a hopeless one to follow you around, aimlessly trying to convert you."

Crescendo smirked at the surprisingly great plan Puck had come up with, "Brilliant!"

"So," Finn made himself known, "How are we going to help? No one even knows about this band."

"Which is why we're going to crash the assembly Friday afternoon. We'll show those losers at McKinley just how badass being in glee really is!"

"But," Crescendo said, "Remember at the beginning of the year when we first had auditions? Everyone was really bad."

"There's bound to have been new students between then and now. So I'm sure one of those kids has some musical talent in the slightest." Puck grew more passionate about his plan as he spoke.

"I think it's a great idea," Finn said from behind the drums.

"Fine," Crescendo sighed, still not completely on board with the plan, "I guess we're crashing the assembly."

"Don't worry dude," Puck reassured the doubtful one of the bunch, "It'll be all good. Especially with the song I chose."

* * *

"Wh—when are you coming home?"

"Blaine, I already told you, Rachel and I won't be back until just before graduation."

"I—I really miss you, Kurt." Blaine's already bent and broken voice grew even more upset as he spoke into his cell phone to Kurt.

"Blaine, are you alright?" Kurt was putting some puzzle pieces together.

"I'm fine," _lies._ "Like I said before, I just really miss you."

"You're lying to me," Kurt walked from his bedroom to the kitchen, and sat beside Rachel. He marveled at the sight of the breakfast she cooked for the two of them, then continued on the phone, "Blaine, I can hear it in your voice."

"You're just thinking too much," Blaine said, "Maybe you've been-"

"No, Blaine, I haven't done anything to cloud my judgment. I know you well enough to know when something is wrong." Kurt sighed, "Now, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Blaine panicked. He couldn't lie, Kurt would know. But he couldn't tell the truth, either. He wasn't ready for any of it, "I—I have to go."

Kurt stared at his cell with disbelief, trying to grasp the fact that Blaine just hung up in a panic.

"What happened?" Rachel asked, handing him a plate.

"I'm not even sure of that myself. But something is definitely wrong."

"Do you have any idea what it might be?"

"Not a clue, but I could you that whatever it is, it's truly troubling him." Kurt nervously bit his finger nail.

"Do you think he'll be okay by himself?" Rachel placed a hand onto Kurt's shoulder, getting closer to comfort him. "When he and I were together, he would always isolate himself when he got upset about something."

"I don't think a locked room and Disney music will help him this time." Kurt sighed, finally placing some food on his plate. There was nothing like fresh fruit salad and pancakes, "In the weirdest way, he sounded completely and utterly destroyed."

"So what are you saying?"

"Maybe we need to pay Ohio an earlier visit than planned."

* * *

"Quiet everyone," the monotonous voice of McKinley's very own Principal Figgins echoed from the microphone on the stage of the auditorium. But his voice was drowned out by the loquacious students that attended the assembly. "Students, quiet please," he tried once more, but still, they were rowdy.

That was, until there was insanely loud guitar strum, and the velvet curtains behind Figgins rose, revealing the Sex Lords. The three had been decked out in all black—complete with boots and leather jackets.

"_MCKINLEY!_" Crescendo screeched into the mic, "Are you ready to rock?"

The animals finally calmed themselves, and were now cheering for the Sex Lords.

Finn pounded on the drums while Puck and Crescendo strummed to the ever-familiar tune of the number one song anyone ever thought of when thinking of motivation.

And Finn started,

"_Rising up, back on the street  
Did my time, took my chances  
Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet  
Just a man and his will to survive  
So many times, it happens too fast  
You change your passion for glory  
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past  
You must fight just to keep them alive..."_

Puck and Crescendo picked up the chorus with the same energy Finn had when starting out the song,

"_...It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight  
Rising up to the challenge of our rival  
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night  
And he's watching us all in the eye of the tiger!..."_


	28. Fighter

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Fighter_

* * *

"A _suspension_?" Finn exclaimed, sitting in Principal Figgins' office, along with Crescendo and Puck.

"This is garbage!" Puck added, with fire in his eye, "You can't suspend us! You should be awarding us for turning your lame ass assembly into the most bitchin' one this school has ever seen!"

"Yeah," Crescendo agreed, "What he said... but without all the swearing."

"Noah Puckerman, watch your language!" Figgins fought back, "You boys not only interrupted an important assembly about the dangers of teenage drug use, but you vandalized school property by smashing the guitars at the end of the performance!"

"Wait," Finn said, "So this is about the guitars? I was on the drums, so I shouldn't be here..."

"Don't get a bitch, dude." Puck commented, giving Finn a dirty look, then averting his attention to look back at Figgins, "Look, we have Nationals in a week, and that's why we crashed the assembly. It was a rally for new members."

Figgins squinted his eyes, full of disbelief. He glared at Crescendo, the obvious truthful and responsible one, "Is this true?"

Crescendo, startled, replied, "Y—yes! Yeah, it's true. We need a new member, or else we have to forfeit."

After about a minute of thinking, Figgins finally answered in their favor, "Fine. You boys are off the hook, but just this once!"

"Wait, you're kidding me, right?" Puck practically yelled at the principal, "I _just_ said that!"

Finn patted him on the shoulder as they stood to leave the office, "Just let it go. Come on."

Puck glared at Figgins, shrugged Finn's hand off of his shoulder, and angrily walked out of the office. The other two Sex Lords followed. Out in the hall, Puck was fuming. Finn and Crescendo failed at repeated attempts to calm him down.

"Dude, just look at it this way," Crescendo began, "We've got a girl auditioning for us later, and maybe if she's stupid enough, she'll sleep with you."

"Yeah," Puck smiled for only a moment, "Wait-" he was cut off by the bell, and by Crescendo walking away with Finn. He stood in the hall as it became filled with rushing students, "Did he just call me stupid?"

"No, but you sure do look stupid standing here talking to yourself." A petite girl with light brown hair answered his rhetorical question from behind. She had a cheetah-print handbag, and a faux-fur collared sweater.

Puck turned around at the sound of her voice, "Well _excuse me_, little rich girl."

"It's _Motta_." she said, "Sugar Motta."

"Well, _Sugar_," he grew a flirtatious grin, getting closer to the girl, "I'm this infamous Puckasaurus, but you probably knew that already, because-"

"No, I didn't, actually," She said with attitude, "And I don't really care care. Sorry I'm not sorry."

* * *

"Thanks to the combined efforts of our very own Finn, Crescendo, and Puck-"

"We prefer _The Sex Lords,_ Mr. Schue." Puck interrupted the teacher during one of their final glee meetings before Prom, Nationals, and finally, Graduation.

"Right, well, anyway, I'd like to introduce you all to our newest glee clubber," he gestured to the door, allowing the princess to walk in, "Ms. Sugar Motta!"

As she walked into the home of the New Directions, all eyes in the room glared at her. The girls' eyes were mostly jealous of her designer clothing and the obvious amount of cash she probably had in her handbag. And the boys were immediately infatuated by her beauty, even Blaine and Crescendo, who weren't even attracted to girls in the first place.

"No freakin' way!"

"What's wrong, Puck?"

"Yeah, what's wrong, Puckasaurus?" Sugar echoed from beside Mr. Schue.

"What's wrong is that you rejected me earlier with no remorse! Not cool." Puck crossed his arms.

"Well, sorry if I'm a little turned off by that dead squirrel on your head, and the fact that you look like a 30-year old man preying on poor, innocent high school girls." Sugar placed hand over her mouth, bearing a shocked expression as if she didn't mean to say those words, "Sorry, I have Aspergers."

"Ass burgers?" Finn muttered under his breath, too low for anyone else to hear.

"I like this girl," Santana whispered to Brittany, who nodded in agreement. "Come sit with us, Sugar!" Santana called out to daddy's little girl. With haste, she strutted up to sit beside Santana.

"Ever since Artie went to the wizard to get new legs, he's had Quinn under a spell, and Falsetto's turned into a sour patch kid, so we need a third person to complete our unholy trinity." Brittany quietly told her.

"You want in?" Santana asked.

Sugar smiled at the two cheerleaders, "I'll consider it."

"Okay, moving on!" Schuester sloppily scribbled _Prom/Nationals_ on the board. "First, I just want to stress that we must leave for Nationals the morning after prom, so you guys can't get to crazy on Friday night. And also, we need to start reworking our set-list. Rachel's off in New York, so of course, she can't perform her solo, and Sebastian's gone, so he and Blaine can't perform their duet. Which means that position is open as well."

No one said anything. They all awkwardly glanced around the room.

"Would anyone like to go first?" Mr. Schue asked.

"I," Blaine hesitated to stand up, "I have a song, Mr. Schue."

As he stood, the glee clubbers looked with awe at his recovery. Just a couple of weeks ago, he was a destroyed human being. He had lost his fashion sense, and apparently ran out of hair gel. But now, he looked like his normal self. His pants were just above his ankles, and his bowtie was preppy as ever, with blue and red stripes. And his hair, well, was molded into his scalp with hair gel.

"I had a rough patch over the last few weeks, and I think I've finally found a song to express my frustration toward a certain someone." Blaine pulled up a chair, but he didn't sit in it. Instead, he stared at it, picturing someone was sitting there. Sebastian. "After all you put me through, you think I'd despise you. But in the end, I wanna thank you, because you made me that much stronger,"

"_...Well I thought I knew you, thinkin' that you were true  
Guess I, I couldn't trust; called your bluff, time is up  
'Cause I've had enough  
You were there by my side, always down for the ride  
But your joy ride just came down in flames 'cause your greed sold me out in shame..."_

Blaine sang the Christina Aguilera song with the same anger she had. He scolded the chair in front of him as if Sebastian was really sitting there with that smirk across his face,

"_...After all of the stealing and cheating you probably think that I hold resentment for you  
But uh uh, oh no, you're wrong  
'Cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do, I wouldn't know  
Just how capable I am to pull through  
So I wanna say thank you  
'Cause it  
Makes me that much stronger  
Makes me work a little bit harder  
It makes me that much wiser  
So thanks for making me a fighter  
Made me learn a little bit faster  
Made my skin a little bit thicker  
Makes me that much smarter  
So thanks for making me a fighter..."_

Blaine continued to let out every bit of anger he had left. Everything around him seemed to vanish. It was just him and Sebastian sitting in his Sebastian's bedroom just before he was taken over. None of that affected Blaine anymore. Nothing that Sebastian did, or will ever try to do again mattered. All that mattered now was Kurt. He knew Kurt would love to see him this way. Strong; empowering.

"_...How could this man I thought I knew  
Turn out to be unjust so cruel  
Could only see the good in you  
Pretend not to see the truth  
You tried to hide your lies, disguise yourself  
Through living in denial  
But in the end you'll see  
You won't stop me!  
I am a fighter and I  
I ain't gonna stop  
There is no turning back  
I've had enough..."_

"Wow, Anderson," Santana commented when Blaine finished the song, "I never knew you had it in you to be so pissed off. The whole song was just—just wanky."

Blaine had snapped out of the different reality he visited. The bedroom walls around him vanished, and Sebastian just disappeared from the chair in front of him. He turned to face the group, and said, "Well, in all honesty, I was just getting all of my frustration toward Sebastian out."

"Sebastian?" Lauren wondered, "Why him?"

"Because," Blaine stopped in his tracks. Was he truly ready to speak the truth? Of course, he knew what happened, and although it pained him to so much as think of it, he accepted it. He didn't live in denial like most victims of such thing would do. But he never spoke of out out loud before, and that terrified him, "I—I was taken advantage of."

Just then, two faces the New Directions weren't expecting for another week walked into the choir room. The one on the left's jaw dropped, along with a designer bag.

_Kurt._

"Blaine?"


	29. Say What You Will

Time for some prom fun! OR IS IT?

* * *

_Being Apart Of Something Special_

_Say What You Will (Before It's Too Late)_

* * *

"Rachel, we have to stay longer," Kurt paced back and forth in his old bedroom back in Lima, "If Blaine _was_ raped, then he needs help—he needs me. I don't care how confident he might look on the outside."

Rachel was lying on her stomach on top of Kurt's bed. She was propped up, looking at their filming schedule. They were needed every day for the next week. That meant there was no way they could stay in Ohio. "Look, Kurt, I understand how you feel and where you're coming from, but we can't just abandon _our_ movie."

He bit his nail, a trait that always showed when he became nervous, "Well, they can't film without their stars, now can they?"

_Diva._ Rachel thought to herself. "I suppose not, but what are we going to tell Indigo? I mean, he'll wonder why we've been here for so long."

Kurt stopped his pacing. He sluggishly dropped onto the bed, and lied next to Rachel. With a heavy sigh, he said, "Flight delay, death in the family—I don't know, anything!"

Rachel didn't respond. She just lied there, feeling nostalgic. Moving closer to Kurt, she rested her head on his shoulder, and grinned, laughing to herself. "It's funny," she finally said.

"What's that?" Kurt asked.

"It's funny how just about a year ago, I was the jealous girlfriend afraid of you stealing my boyfriend. And now—he's yours." she looked up at Kurt, hoping he'd reminisce with her.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "And what ever happened that caused us to become as close as we are now?"

"Well," she began, "I got knocked up, and you were with Crescendo, so I didn't see you as much of a threat anymore. Then, it turned out that Blaine really was on the down low, but by that time, I didn't care. I had my... abortion... and he wanted no part of me. Also, because I was experimenting with being a _bad girl_, complete with leather jackets and everything, so I tried not to care about my feelings—or other peoples' for that matter."

"I still can't believe you slept with Puckerman. So gross." He laughed.

Rachel giggled along with him, "Yeah, that's not really a highlight of my life..."

The was another silence between the two stars. Kurt whipped out his phone, and opened up his photo album. The first picture was one of he and Blaine. It was back when he and Finn threw that unforgettable party that changed everything within the club. In the picture, they both had red cups in their hands, and matching messy hairstyles. He noticed Falsetto in the background, surrounded by Mike, Finn, and Puck, chugging beer from a keg. _What a crazy girl_, he thought to himself.

"Is that from your party?" Rachel peeked at the picture. "You two look so happy together."

"Or really, really drunk," Kurt joked. Rachel laughed louder than she should have, which made Kurt laugh as well. He unintentionally began to reminisce with Rachel as he swiped through his entire photo album. There were tons of pictures of he and Blaine, and a few of he and Crescendo. He stopped on the very first one they ever took together.

They were on a beach, sitting in the sand with their backs facing the ocean. Crescendo had a crooked smile, and Kurt's head was resting on his shoulder. The sun setting in the background really gave off a romantic vibe. That was a very strange coincidence, considering that was the very day that they decided to be a couple.

"What happened between you two? I thought you'd be together forever. It looks here like you two were in love."

Kurt, with a sigh, replied, "We were... I just... it was _Blaine,_ you know?" he paused, fighting a tear, "I just feel really bad because I don't think I ever gave Cres the proper closure. And every time I look at him, I just see how broken he was when he found out about Blaine and I."

* * *

"So," Mr. Schue sat on a stool in the center of the choir room, enjoying the final moments with the New Directions, "Tomorrow is prom, and the following day is Nationals. Like I said before, try not to have too much fun at prom. All of us are going to have to be in Miami if we're going to want to win." he paused, pulling out a paper from his clipboard with their Nationals plan and setlist on it, "The plane to Miami leaves on Saturday morning at around 6am, so you all need to be here an hour early so the bus can take us to the airport."

"And what about the setlist?" Mercedes pondered on the status of whether or not she'd be singing the duet that she and Santana had auditioned with.

"Of course," Mr. Schue looked down the list on his clipboard, "You and Santana have the duet, being that only you two auditioned for that position, and the solo is going to be-"

"Mr. Schue!" Falsetto interrupted the teacher, "I know it might be too late, but can I try something for the solo?"

"Um," He hesitated, thinking of the last time she tried to sing in front of the group. She was heavily intoxicated, and became sick short after she started the song. "Are you sure you're up for it? I don't want to have a repeat of our female music week."

"I'm sure," she stood, walking to the center of the choir room, where Mr. Schue excused himself from. She sat on the stool where he once sat, and started to sing without any accompaniment,

"_If I were to die today my life would be more than okay  
For the time that I spent with you  
Its like a dream come true  
If this was a last goodbye  
No more tears to dry  
I would say it one more time  
Its been more than fine  
How could've known  
How could've shown..."_

Crescendo watched with the intent of getting up and rushing her to the nurse's office again. He might've scolded her that night for making a fool of herself, but he was never truly mad at her. He would _always_ care for her, no matter what happened. She's his sister, after all.

"_...Say what you will before it's to late  
Say what you will  
Say what you will before it's to late  
Say what you will  
If you were to walk away  
Know you couldn't stay  
Think of all the times we've had  
All the good and bad..." _

Surprisingly, she was alright. There were no signs of her being intoxicated. She was completely sober as she continued to mesmerize the glee club with her raspy voice,

"_...All the time that I was holding back  
Just trying to protect myself  
I want you to know  
I loved you more than that  
Say what you will before it's to late  
Say what you will  
Say what you will before it's to late  
Say what you will  
If I were to die today my life would be more than okay..."_

Once she finished, the entire club gave her a standing ovation, stating how proud they were that she sobered up and sung without any more mishaps.

"Very good," Mr. Schue applauded, "Definitely a showstopper."

"Thanks," she said, returning to her chair.

"Well, I guess that settles it." he announced, "Our setlist is as follows; Falsetto's breathtaking _Say What You Will_, followed by Mercedes and Santana with their mashup of Adele's _Chasing Pavements_ and Bruno Mars' _It Will Rain_, and we'll finished with the iconic _Don't Stop Believin'. _It's only appropriate to end the way we started."

Everyone in the choir room cheered. Through all of the laughs, tears, and fighting, this moment was theirs to keep. In this moment in time, they were a family. It was something they'd cherish for the rest of their lives.

"I hope we're not late!" Kurt's voice came from the door of the choir room. He and Rachel walked in, smiling at the sight of the New Directions all together before they'd be gone forever.

"Kurt!" Blaine eagerly jumped out of his chair, and rushed to hug his boyfriend. The feeling of being in Kurt's arms was something he'd never get tired of.

"Wait," Tina began, "I thought you guys were supposed to be back in New York by now?"

"Well, we decided to stay a little longer. You guys _can't_ go to Nationals without us." Rachel smirked.

"Yeah, and besides, we both have some unfinished business here, right, Rachel?"

Rachel, still smirking, shot a glance to Quinn, who was trying so hard to fight off her gaze. "Right, we do."

* * *

The next day was prom. The New Directions had all gathered at Breadstix for a pre-prom and Nationals dinner. It was more of a _goodbye_ dinner than anything, really. Each and every one of them reminisced about the past couple of years, and how they went through all the things they went through to make it to Nationals for the second time. And this time, they were certain that they'd win.

"Excuse me," Rachel announced, "I've got to use the little girl's room."

Quinn stood as well, "I'll come with."

The two girls made their way past the waiters, waitresses, and businessmen at table five, all just to get to the bathroom in the back of the restaurant.

"Rachel," Quinn spoke as soon as they walked through the doors.

"Wait a second," Rachel stopped her from talking. She then checked under each stall to make sure they were alone. They were. "Alright, we're alone."

"Rachel, I have these feelings, and as much as I fight them back, they're still there." Quinn sighed, looking into Rachel's eyes as they filled with lust.

"Wow, straight to the point," Rachel said, "Okay, and what about Artie?"

"I can't break his heart," she defended, taking a step closer to Rachel, "For the past few months, all I could think of was you, Rachel. Even after Artie came back from Amsterdam, you're all that ever crossed my mind. Our Valentine's Day together was unforgettable. I never knew I'd end up doing that with you, of all people. But I'm glad I did, because I see us together. Happy."

Rachel couldn't help but blush. She wanted to be with Quinn as well. "And do you think we can be together without hurting Artie?"

Quinn cleared her throat, grabbing Rachel's hands, "I'm sure of it. He and I decided that after graduation, we'd go our separate ways. Both of us agreed that it would be too hard to maintain a long-distance relationship, so we're going to have a happy goodbye at graduation."

Rachel was taken back. Never in a million years did she think that she'd be dating on of her ex-tormentors. There was just something about Quinn Fabray that made her feel an astounding array of different emotions. And no guy had ever made her feel that way. Not even Blaine. She might have been reluctant to admit it to herself before, but now it was too apparent to dismiss.

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

* * *

_**Falsetto's P.O.V.**_

My expectations for the masquerade-themed prom were far too low for me to care. I walked confidently behind my white-feathered mask, acting like I owned the place. I love the theme because I could be whoever I wanted to be. That was something that my unmasked self could no longer do, unfortunately. The years' events played through my mind ever so vividly, reminding me of the failure I'd become. It was like a private viewing of a movie based on my life.

I hated it.

On the stage, that was conveniently placed right in front of the dance floor, stood Quinn. I could only tell because she had recently cut her hair. I don't know if it had anything to do with the fact that she had one foot out of the closet with Rachel, or if she actually wanted a change. But it did look good on her.

Quinn placed one hand softly on the mic, smile briefly, then sung,

"_Story of my life  
Searching for the right  
But it keeps avoiding me  
Sorrow in my soul  
Cause it seems that wrong  
Really loves my company  
He's more than a man  
And this is more than love  
The reason that the sky is blue  
The clouds are rolling in  
Because I'm gone again  
And to him I just can't be true..."_

Quinn sang softly, setting the slow mood for the beginning of prom. Without a doubt, later on, there'd be fast music playing, along with the promiscuous acts that my generation calls dancing. As she sang, I could tell she was definitely doing something with Berry. Those two didn't know how t hide their eye-fucking very well in the choir room.

"_...And I know that he knows I'm unfaithful  
And it kills him inside  
To know that I am happy with some other guy  
I can see him dying  
I don't wanna do this anymore  
I don't wanna be the reason why  
Every time I walk out the door  
I see him die a little more inside  
I don't wanna hurt him anymore  
I don't wanna take away his life  
I don't wanna be  
A murderer..."_

Judging by the way the boy I could see in the corner of my eye stormed out of the room, I could tell that he was Artie, and this song was Quinn facing her demons.

I've got to admit, hiding behind a mask was a good way of handling that. Not the best, but it was still good. Because like me, she wasn't confident enough to face everyone herself, so she used a very eloquent mask to hide behind.

"_...I feel it in the air  
As I'm doing my hair  
Preparing for another date  
A kiss upon my cheek  
As he reluctantly  
Asks if I'm gonna be out late  
I say I won't be long  
Just hanging with the girls  
A lie I didn't have to tell  
Because we both know  
Where I'm about to go  
And we know it very well..."_

This was getting awfully dull. Seeing all of these happy couples slow dancing pissed me off. Mike would've been my prom date, without a doubt, but he was gone. He left me to fulfill his dreams. Yeah, I was happy for him, but I hated being alone.

I needed a pick-me-up.

The girls' bathroom was surprisingly empty—which was a good thing. I walked into the very last stall; the one farthest from the door. I dug into my clutch bag, and grabbed my little baggy of happiness. I then spread the contents onto my finger, and it soon vanished into my system. Of course I felt a little guilty after, but it was all worth it for the euphoria that followed.

I don't know what my tipping point was, exactly. Maybe it was all the parties following Kurt's. All I know is that I was going down the path I swore I would never go down again. But the drugs seemed to fill a hole inside of me. I guess it was the fact that I'd been a huge bitch to everyone in glee since the moment I walked through those doors with Crescendo. I was never accepted. Not by them—not by anyone.

The effects of the drugs began to take place. I was suddenly wide awake and jittery. It felt as though an enormous weight was lifted from my shoulders. I staggered back into the masquerade-themed gymnasium, and felt the music. The bass pounded against my chest, and I sore my heart stopped for a moment.

And in that same moment, someone grabbed my wrist. A girl. The mask, the lights, decorations, and the fact that I was hyped up on cocaine made my vision blur everything together. I was dragged through the crowd and up onto the stage. From what I could tell, the music stopped, and everyone stared at me. There was a mic in my hand, and I could hear my heart pounding within my chest.

"You're up," A girl whispered in my ear. It was a seductive voice, with a hint of attitude. _Santana?_ "Don't fuck it up," she whispered again. Yep, definitely Santana. I guess she was the same one who dragged me through the crowd in the first place.

"How's everyone doing tonight?" I croaked into the mic. Dead silence. "Great, well, here's a song by..." shit, who the hell sings the damn song? "...Amy Wine—something."

I fucked up. I fucked up big time. Could I hit reset? Could someone pinch me, and wake me up from this never-ending nightmare? Was there any possible way for me to just run off this stage, out of the school, and hide under my blankets? No. Not anymore.

The beat of the song came around quickly, and I was forced to sing,

"_They tried to make me go to rehab but I said 'no, no, no'  
Yes I've been black but when I come back you'll know know know  
I ain't got the time and if my daddy thinks I'm fine  
He's tried to make me go to rehab but I won't go go go  
I'd rather be at home with ray  
I ain't got seventy days  
Cause there's nothing  
There's nothing you can teach me  
That I can't learn from Mr Hathaway..."_

Everyone stared. In this moment, my life hit a standstill. Everything stopped, and every single memory since birth hit me like a freight train; learning to ride my first bicycle, fishing with Crescendo and our father before he left, singing lessons, fighting with Crescendo, alcohol, parties...drugs... It all hit me at once, and was more than overwhelming. I tried to power through it, so I continued,

"_...I didn't get a lot in class  
But I know it don't come in a shot glass  
They tried to make me go to rehab but I said 'no, no, no'  
Yes I've been black but when I come back you'll know know know  
I ain't got the time and if my daddy thinks I'm fine  
He's tried to make me go to rehab but I won't go go go..."_

But that was it. I was done. My batteries had run dry, and I was no longer my own person. What happened next was something far out of my control.

I wasn't in McKinley's gym anymore. I was lying down... and moving. Lights flashed in and out of my vision. I could see my brother on my right, and Santana on my left. They were talking to me, but I heard nothing. And my vision was too blurred to read their lips. One last light flashed in my sight, and it vanished into darkness.

"What happened?" I woke up in a daze for what seemed like days later. I thought I was in the presence of another, but I was completely alone.

"... she's going to be okay, though, right?" I heard my brother yelling with desperation from outside the room I was in. A hospital bed? I couldn't quite make out what the nurse said; she was too quiet. I watched from the corner of my eye as he stormed off angrily. From what I could tell, he looked as though he no longer saw the glass as half-full.

And that screwed with my thoughts, since he was _always_ the optimistic one.

I turned over in the hospital bed. The heart meter was beeping at a slow, yet steady pace. I counted along with the beeps, one...two...three...four... I counted until my eyes became heavy, closed, and the beeping was no more.

* * *

_**Crescendo's P.O.V.**_

"Look, Cres, the _only _thing we can do now is win Nationals for her." Santana's words rushed and repeated through my mind. I couldn't even look up to speak to her. The guilt on my back was too heavy.

Whether Falsetto was going to be okay or not was the only thing going through my mind. I had to put on a face like nothing was wrong so we could leave for Nationals in just a few hours. There was no use going to sleep, so Santana stayed with me, being a good friend, and we went back to my house.

It felt so much more empty without Falsetto here. I couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was with me. Whether that was a good or a bad thing was out of my knowledge. I walked into her room, and was greeted by an ominous emptiness. I didn't bother with the lights. The sun was coming up in the horizon, and that was all the light I needed.

I didn't know what else to do. Falsetto was in the hospital, and I could only blame myself. If only I hadn't been so harsh on her, maybe she would be sleeping in this room right now, and we'd be going to Miami to win a National championship.

"It's not your fault," Santana walked into the room beside me. She rested her head on my shoulder, and I knew that the bitch I once knew had gone somewhere else. I guess there really is a heart somewhere deep down in there. "We're going to win Nationals for her, and she's going to be okay."

I wish I could believe that.

"I hope you're right." I said to her, my voice breaking with sadness, "Can I have a minute alone, please?"

With my request, Santana left the room. She didn't get too far, because I heard her footsteps cease practically the moment she exited. Once I was alone, I figured that I'd do the only thing I knew how to express myself. Sing.

"_I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing  
Just praying to a God that I don't believe in  
'Cause I got time while she got freedom  
'Cause when a heart breaks no it don't break even  
Her best days will be some of my worst  
She finally met a man that's gonna put her first  
While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping  
'Cause when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven, even, no..."_

I could fight the pain and suffering no longer. The tears rushed out of my eye sockets, and I poured my heart out in song,

"_...What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you,  
And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're okay  
I'm falling to pieces, yeah,  
I'm falling to pieces  
They say bad things happen for a reason  
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding  
'Cause she's moved on while I'm still grieving  
And when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven even, no..."_

It was only appropriate that I sing this song. It's one of Falsetto's favorites, and the lyrics seemed to relate to my situation at the moment. Worrying about Falsetto, and missing Kurt.

* * *

_**Normal P.O.V.**_

The location of the competition in Miami was more than beautiful. There were huge glass windows in the lobby, which displayed an amazing view of the Atlantic Ocean. On the ceiling, there were huge chandeliers cascading down, giving the place a more elegant and lustrous feeling.

Each team gathered in the lobby was more unique than the last. One team, which Kurt investigated himself, was from California. They were decked out in purple and gold; the colors of the Los Angeles Lakers basketball team. He also deducted that they must've played basketball as well, since they were tall, and looked very athletic.

He also noticed a team dressed like they were going to a rodeo, so he figured that they were from Texas. Another team looked exactly like the New Directions—a bunch of misfits. One kid seemed like an offspring of he and Mercedes.

"Strange," he said to himself. As he turned to go back to his group, he was blocked by the presence of another. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Hello, Kurt," he was greeted by the sinister grin of the boy he wanted to kill after finding out why Blaine was acting so strange while he was in New York with Rachel. "Fancy meeting you here."

"What're you doing here?" Kurt felt intimidating, staring the boy down.

"Well, I _am_ still apart of the New Directions, aren't I? No one ever properly kicked me out, so here I am." he chuckled, "I want to win a National championship, just like you."

"Look, Sebastian, I'm not the one that you want to be messing with right now. I know what you did to Blaine, and you should be lucky that I'm showing you some respect right now."

"Respect?" Sebastian smirked, and fixed Kurt's collar, even though it was fine, "You're trying so hard to be intimidating, aren't you? Well here's a newsflash for you; I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be," Kurt snarled.

"What a joke," Sebastian provoked Kurt even further, "Look at you, you look like a tomato."

One aggressive shove from Sebastian was all if took for Kurt to snap. Sebastian grabbed Kurt's raised fist as to to tell him _stop kidding yourself, kid_. All of the years' events rushed through Kurt's mind; his veins. Almost like a reflex, he struck out. He shook Sebastian's hand away with one arms and brought his elbow up quickly, catching him square in the jaw. The thud ran across the lobby like a bass drum, to which Finn reacted from almost twenty feet away.

"Kurt!" He shouted across the lobby, before running to Kurt.

Sebastian tried raising his arms to protect his face. Kurt brought his other fist around, hard into Sebastian's stomach. Breath drained from the prep school boy as he dropped onto the tiled floor.

"Kurt," Finn grabbed his stepbrother just as he was about to pounce on top of the fallen boy to show him a bit more of that anger that Sebastian should have been afraid of. "That's enough."

Kurt stared down at Sebastian, and the reality of what he had just done began to set it. He turned and began to walk in to opposite direction, toward the door. Everyone stared in his direction. He walked out the door, and for good measure, slammed it shut at he stepped into a world much different from the one he had been in before.


End file.
